


It's Hard To Dance With The Devil On Your Back

by arcticmalum



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, ashton also dances, ballerina michael, calums also in lukes gang, cashton is a toxic relationship :(, gang leader luke, michael is feminine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2018-11-23 02:57:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 58,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11393937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcticmalum/pseuds/arcticmalum
Summary: Luke had never been intrigued by frou-frou tutu wearing dances. Honestly, he found them as a bore and would catch himself falling asleep watching it. But when Michael got into his position and moved from place to place on that floor it was like a new wave of change washed over him and he could see why people pay loads of money to see ballerina's dance on stage, why parent's enrolled their kids into classes, why every person in this studio falls in love with Michael's body and the way it looks so graceful and calm when he's under so much pressure.orMichael is one of Sydney's most talented ballerinas with nothing but a successful future ahead of him and Luke is a co-leader in one of Sydney's most well-known gangs and ends up crossing paths with the shy ballet boy.





	1. excuses, excuses

**Author's Note:**

> so despite having a million other clem fics to write... i started another one :)   
> i am aware prima ballerinas are usually fem but michael is an exception in this story and it is stated in this why he is one... enjoy!!

Michael's duffel bag was slung lazily over one shoulder as his feet clad in vans quickly trekked through the front door of the dance academy, squeezing his way past a family signing their daughter up for tap dance classes he managed to squirm through two closing doors and make his descent up the longest flight of stairs imaginable, skipping one at a time as he apologized to anyone he'd bump or brush past in the process, halfway up his clambering feet took a turn at the same time he checked his phone for the time. Ten minutes late to rehearsal, they're probably done with warm ups and onto the actual dance already.

His lips sucked in the cold air conditioning air and heaved it out in hitched breaths as he started up the second flight, why on earth did this school put the ballet class all the way on the third floor? What's so bad about the first floor? It's easier to get to and it helps those who are very, very late not work up a sweat just getting there. Once at the top he thanked God under his very uneven breath, and shoved open the door to the main hall, white walls with recital posters every few feet or so or a tacked up collage of this studio's performances in the past all neat and elegant with labels of Swan Lake, 2013 or Fall Competition, First Place Group Dance to boast in this school's accomplishments.

He's been dancing at Sydney's best ballet school for years now, he enrolled when he was seven and hasn't been dropped or decided to quit since, he fell in love with the art of the music and the way he could move and people actually grew fond of him and wanted him to dance more, boosting him up classes to the point where when he was ten he was learning dances with sixteen year olds. His parents, although hesitant, allowed him to pursue this extravagant and not to mention expensive career because it was no lie he clearly had talent in this field when they sat in on rehearsals with the other mums or dads when he could do twelve pirouettes in a row while most of the girls were only doing five to eight.

As his feet scuffed against the carpeted floor he could hear the growing instrumental of his warm up music and his choreographer's strict voice counting out the beats through the door and he wasted no time in throwing open the white door and running inside hastily, his eyes on the ground as he apologized repeatedly.

"I'm sorry, madame, so, so sorry. My alarm didn't go off and my ride was late, everything was a mess, please forgive me." He was toeing his shoes off as he spoke over the music, her counting stopping as she let the dancer's keep doing their barre exercises. Her feet carried over poised and perfectly tied in the ballet shoes directly in front of where Michael was, crouching on the sidelines of the wide open practice room, duffel bag unzipped as he hastily threw on his own rosy pink slippers.

"Excuses, excuses, Michael. We even tried to wait three whole minutes for you, your one of my star dancers don't think this won't effect your spot in the next recital." She tsked firmly, eyes flickering between the dainty boy and the list pinned to the huge wall of endless floor to ceiling mirrors that help the dancer's see what they're doing, a bullet point list with big bold letters spelling out WINTER RECITALS in huge font that not even a blind person could miss, yellow highlighter underlining the one in the middle for the Primas as their company nicknamed the prima ballerinas of their dance school.

Michael was lucky enough to be the one boy granted into the prima's a full group of fifteen top notch girls who dedicate their lives to this one form of dance. Usually in the hierarchy of ballet, primas are women, but he was lucky enough to be granted into a sex neutral dance studio. He just so happened to be the one boy who pushes himself to be better more and more every day and fights for the number one spot in every choreographer's heart.

"Lace up, and where's your spandex? Leggings are for Tuesday rehearsals, Michael." Madame's critique had him nodding knowingly, his green eyes lifting to carry across the class and see they all had their spandex on, his lip sucked between his teeth and glanced at his own exercise clothes. Black leggings thrown over his white leotard and thrown over that was a long sleeve light pink crop top promoting this dance company. He'll be honest, he didn't even try with today's outfit.

The primas were so strict in this school his coach assigned them a dress code. Mondays it's leotards and split skirts, Tuesdays leggings, Wednesdays free wear, Thursdays tutus, Friday's spandex, and Saturdays are reserved for specifically dress rehearsals- wearing and rehearsing in whatever outfit you're assigned for recitals or competitions.

"Onto the barre, chop chop." Madame shouted over the music before turning back to the actually dancers doing their exercises, "Theresa I thought I told you to straighten that posture of yours." Her mouth blabbered and Michael's ninety nine percent sure they all tune her out at this point. She's amazing at teaching but very harsh with her advice and critiques, they can crush a ballerina's soul and aspirations. Madame's brought at least one of every four ballerinas in here to tears within days of starting the class- Michael included.

Hurrying up his actions he expertly tied his silk ribbon laces up his shins and raced over to the barre where he steadied himself behind one of his best friend's in the class, Naomi. Strong yet delicate, gentle with a touch of arrogance if necessary, and overall one of the few genuine people here. Her hair was pulled back into the usual bun and today it was adorned with a rose pin, to match the soft pink of her spandex.

"Hey, hot stuff, what took you so long?" She stayed discrete as she spoke, doing her demi-plié perfectly before rising in synch with the other girls. "My mum picked me up late, now Madame's put a target on my back for winter recitals." He mumbled despite the surging anger going through him bubbling up to the brim at this point because being late was none of his fault, he told himself to turn his alarm on last night, he was ready on time despite waking up late but yet his mum showed up in his driveway completely forgetting the importance of time in this world.

"Bummer." Naomi simply spoke, doing her various plié's while listening to the instructor's loud mouth continue counting for them and criticizing those doing something wrong. Michael finally joining in on the exercises and going through each position with his mind stuck on his parents possibly screwing up his spot as the lead for this recital. He rarely gets the lead and they finally promised him that at the next show he could wear a tutu like the rest of the prima's. He's been begging Madame for months to let him dress up just like the girls, he loves the skirts more than any of the guy costumes they offered to him. Tutu's are so much more his style.

It wasn't until the fellow girls of the studio started to join his side and Naomi even marched down to the director of the entire company and went on an inspirational yet in some ways terrifyingly intimidating lecture about how if Michael wants to wear a simple skirt, he should be allowed to because it shouldn't matter in the first place. They let him wear skirts during rehearsal, why couldn't he do the same at the actual show? The director obliged and Michael's been thankful ever since.

Three claps from the front had the dancers all halting immediately, Madame Louise's hands clasped together as she shook her head. "Assume positions for the opening, we're running that five minute scene and then we need to discuss some big news." The boy crossed his fingers and hoped she'd show them their costumes finally.

They all ran through the opening of their show with little to no problems, Michael never fell off balance and only one girl got lost and it was for just a mere millisecond until she popped back into reality and finished her small solo with a bit of a guilty look, it was wrong but Michael felt relief wash over him knowing he wasn't the only dancer who disappointed Madame Louise today.

"Naomi, you fixed your turns." The pink haired boy gushed as they all gathered back into a circle criss cross on the floor for this huge announcement, his lips sipping his water from it's bottle as the darker girl beside him rolled her eyes playfully.

"I nearly fell on the second one, shush." She waved a hand to shoo him but he only nudge her side with his elbow, "That's better than the fall you took Monday." Referencing to her failed spin had the two cringing at the memory, her knee gave out and she immediately slammed onto her hip and had to sit out for ten minutes which is extremely rare. Madame never let's dancers who cry over getting hurt sit out for more than thirty seconds, that's how bad it got.

They ran through the steps of her spin for a minute or two and the announcement was made that Naomi is getting a solo (one of the lucky three) and they went back to work, the other girls deep down felt a strong surge of jealousy but Michael, he was ecstatic for his best friend.

-

"Wait up!" A familiar shout had him stopping in the hall, duffel bag back on his shoulder as sweat glistened on his face but he still looked fine according to his friend who was rushing down the hall to catch up with him.

"Ashton, you're so clingy." He announced as if neither of them knew he does this every day after rehearsal. He's not a prima like Michael, instead he reigns the proud title of a Danseur Noble. His strong physique and soft royal features giving him an assured spot as one of the few nobles in the building (definitely the company's favorite, though).

"Very true." The head of curly blonde tendrils fell in step with the shorter much paler boy beside him, "But I have big news to announce."

"The last time you had big news it was because you bought strawberry flavored condoms for you and Calum's anniversary." Michael's playful comment had the dancer beside him shushing him, "Don't say that too loud." He scorned, glancing anxiously at the dancers and teachers all around him in their leisure.

"You and him talk about sex like it's the weather at least I'm not yelling about the. . ." The pink haired boy's lips fell to a soft whisper, a new innocence in his wide eyes as he leaned into Ashton's space. "Spanking." He stayed quiet, shuddering as he walked.

"People have their preferences." Ashton pointed out. "Mine just so happens to not concur to yours." Ashton's eyes gazed at Michael's somewhat picky attire, still in his leggings and crop top as the boy blushed, "Panties are cute, okay." His defense was valid as he hid his face, "What's the big news?"

Almost as if he forgot why he came here in the first place, Ashton gasped. "Oh!" He remembered his purpose and smiled one of his best dimpled smiles, "Calum wants to meet you! We were out to eat yesterday and he said I always bring you up but I never introduced you two, long story short he thought I was embarrassed of our relationship and I assured him I wasn't so please come meet him today, it'll be so fun, I promise."

There were many things Michael loved about Ashton. His dancing skills, his sense of humor, his amazing cooking abilities, and much more. His boyfriend, although, was not one of the things he adores about his dear friend. Calum's not part of his preferred crowd- he has a gang for crying out loud, he's heard so many stories of how his boyfriend protects him late at night at the slightest of sounds and keeps him safe when they go clubbing but at the end of the day he's a high school drop out who smokes a pack of cigarettes a day who might end up getting Ashton stuck in some risky shit.

"Ash, you know how I feel about his choices." Michael's soft, worried tone carried out in a shaky tone. The last steps of the stairs now behind him as they both ambled down the main hall towards the exit, a very loud groan coming from Ashton who flailed his arms at his sides, "He's so nice, please? He won't make you do drugs or anything- he's been clean for months!" A hand shook the very frail and twig-like arm of Michael, his pale head shaking persistently. He's not a fan of punks.

"Listen, I'm honored about the invitation but I'm gonna pass." His hands pushed open the main entrance doors of the dance studio, a fresh breeze hitting his skin as he walked backwards to wait for Ashton to leave as well, "About that. . ." Those hazel eyes glanced nervously up at his friend in a pleading sense.

"Babe!" A shout from behind him had the smaller boy tensing, a new look of frustration hitting his features. Creased eyebrows, clenched jaw, small balled up fists. Ashton only gave a hopeful smile, he told the bastard he'd meet him and brought the boy up to his studio to pick him up. The pink haired boy lifted a finger to his throat and slid an imaginary line across it with his back to Calum- he's so going to get revenge on Ashton for this.

He gave the blonde boy one more look before Ashton's legs sprinted into the stronger and buffer man's arms, latching onto him with complete admiration as his lips peppered Calum's entire face and neck in kisses. They were the definition of PDA. Handsy and groping each other, he was almost positive that Ashton made Calum semi-hard by the time they pulled away but there was surprisingly a lack of a tent in his jeans. That was their version of a usual greeting and Michael almost threw up in his mouth.

"Michael, meet Calum, my completely harmless boyfriend." A genuine smile was glued onto the boy's lips as he said it and all that he could manage to do was stand there and gape at the couple who just made out before his eyes as if it was nothing, everything in his body just utterly frozen while he clutched his duffel bag like his life depended on it.

"Hi." He muttered, wide minty green eyes the size of saucers gleaming up at the much broader and muscular man adorned in black skinny jeans all torn and frayed, a distressed tee exploiting some heavy metal band, and a leather jacket with some gang symbol stitched on the back. His head of deep brown curls all astray and untamed ruffled in the wind as the bangs blew up and exposed his matching eyes that flashed nothing but kindness.

"I've heard a lot about you, the prima, right?" His questioned earned himself a very slow nod, still getting a very hesitant and suspicious stare sent his way, the tension could be cut with a butter knife.

"Oh, come on, I don't bite." The punk joked.

"You do spank, though." Michael's remark instantly had the brunette's smile dropping into fear, head snapping down to check that his boyfriend heard what that boy just said because he thought he was just hearing things.

"I've gotta meet up with Hemmings before we head out, he's supposed to give me the cash he owes, could spoil you some more." Calum's arms snaked around the other dancer's waist and pulled the tan boy to his chest, rocking him slightly as he explained it all to him.

Michael gave a lost look to his friend, they're heading out? Is he involved? God, he hopes not.

"We're going out to eat!" Ashton told him with a grin, "Surprise!" He added on as if it'd lighten the mood but Michael's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets and he can't even will himself to like the idea of having lunch with a gang leader and his way too cheery boyfriend.

To fill in the tension a phone ringing broke any ice left, Calum's hands fishing the iPhone from his pocket and answering with a stern, "What now, dammit? I'm picking up my boyfriend." Into the speaker and pacing down the sidewalk to leave the two alone for now.

"He smells like cigarettes." Michael scrunched his nose in disgust, unamused with the entirety of this situation.

"Mikey, he's more than a druggie, just give him a chance. I love him and he loves me, please. He's more than this bad guy, if he was a regular guy you'd like him!"

"But he's not." The boy's green eyes flickered between Ashton and his boyfriend who was now yelling on the phone in the distance. "He's reckless and I don't trust him."

The curls on Ashton's heads fell when he dropped his head down and scuffed his converse awkwardly against the sidewalk, trying to think of a loophole around that one but he was right. However, Calum means a lot to Ashton and he just wanted to share him with someone else who means just as much but maybe not as sexual.

"Fucking hell, you don't deal the drugs and not get money from the customer!" Calum's yell was bellowed off in the distance away from the two boys who only stared at each other, Michael's arms gesturing towards the man yelling into his phone, whispering out an aggravated, "Point proven."

"No, you tell this dumbass he's fired by tonight but if I see him in our territory next morning he's getting a bullet through his head, Hemmings." He hung up without a goodbye, shoving his phone into his back pocket with a couple low grumbles under his breath. Very profusely, Ashton locked his lips onto his boyfriend's and tried to calm him down that way, guiding the older man's hands onto his ass and pushing him against his car, a sleek black range rover.

"Babe, don't stress." He kissed the older boy's neck and got Calum to sigh, almost letting out all the negativity in that one breath. Michael stood rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet, his duffel bag weighing down his shoulder and hurting him a bit. If they're gonna do this he wants it to be over and done with as soon as possible.

"Come on, I'll sit in the back with you." Ashton was tugging the pink haired ballerina into the car with a giddy smile, totally blown away that Michael was agreeing to this even if he is miserable. The maori let his boyfriend into the car along with his friend and then shut the door before sliding into the driver's seat as well.

"It smells like weed in here." Michael plugged his nose with two fingers, his voice coming off nasally. "Ah, that would be the weed." Calum pointed out with a smirk, "One of my friends was smoking in it last week and the scent is sort of. . .potent." He started driving and gave a cheeky smile, noting the way that Michael kept his nose plugged.

"Not much of a druggie, eh?" He piped up jokingly, only receiving a deadly glare from Michael in the back, letting the much kinder boy beside him speak an answer. "Michael's not fond of anything rebellious, babe."

"Rebellious, illegal, same thing." The boy mocked with his nasally voice. He sent a glare to Ashton, his hand pushing down a button so his window rolled down and let fresh air in. Calum drove down the street and began small talk.

"How was it, babe?" He looked at his boyfriend in the mirror and watched how Ashton shrugged, "Didn't get the solo but Madame said she might recommend me to TABS." He abbreviated The Australian Ballet School- no doubt the highest ranking school for ballerina's in the country. They search for the best of the best and give very little scholarships.

"That's my boy." He prided the dancer who blushed and giggled, his hazel eyes flickered to where Michael sat before speaking to Calum once again, "Michael has a solo at the recital, babe." He was one of the few dancer's who was genuinely excited when they saw his name at the top for a solo, everyone else got jealous and some cried but Ashton couldn't have been happier.

"Yeah, but it's not for winter formal." The boy was bummed, folding both arms across his chest and breathed in somewhat less druggie air. "Madame has my head on the chopping block, I was late today." He knows he should just forget about his one mistake and move on but it sucks. He's never been on his teacher's bad list but now he is and there's a chance he may not have a solo for winter formal which is one of the shows where The Australian Ballet School scouts are visiting to see if they have any good talent.

"Be grateful she still thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread. Never shuts the hell up about you even when she's teaching me. Prima Michael this, Prima Michael that." Ashton may have been a little pent up about that but it seemed the pink haired boy understood, his head nodding sadly to what he said. He's not sad that she loves him, he's sad that Ashton never gets his praise. He's a phenomenal dancer, he's built and cares about what he's doing. Ashton's beyond his level, he deserves a spot with the prima's desperately and Michael's not against that.

The car ride conversation stopped for the most part after he said that, some random Pink Floyd song was lowly played and unlike Michael had wanted they ventured into the bad side of town, the complete opposite side of where he lives. Run down buildings with caved in roofs and bumpy streets that made him quiver and put his window back up at the various arguments heard from the sidewalks. Michael was horrified. His parents used to lecture him about how they never want him to make his way down here. They want him to come back home alive.

"You know the drill, babe. Stay in the car and keep the doors locked, love you." Calum parked beside a normally decent house. Plain exterior, a motley of motorcycles of all variety parked in the driveway and for once no vandalized walls on any side of the house. He walked up with his leather jacket on and his hands pulling a cigarette out of it's pack before sparking the lighter and smoking on the porch as he waited for the person he needs to answer.

"He's okay, I guess." Michael has to be honest and say Calum's not the worst guy he's seen around his best friend, giving into the whole ordeal because he can't be so ignorant. Especially since he gave him a chance and he's not that bad.

Ashton clapped, triumphantly squeezing Michael into a hug as his smile only beamed brighter, "I knew you'd like him! I knew it!" His exclamation had the pink haired boy going rosy in his porcelain cheeks. "He's the love of my life, Mike. We were talking about our future the other night and he mentioned marriage. Calum and I want to be serious some day."

"That's. . ." Michael had to pause his train of thought in this conversation, green eyes suddenly fascinated with the exchange happening outside, Calum's hand shaking the hand of another guy. Tall, irresistibly built, his eyes were shaded by sunglasses as he laughed at something the brunette said- his hands patting his back pocket to fish out his wallet and handed him a roll of money, a lot of money. As the maori across from him started to thumb through it and count that it was all there, the boy let his head turn to face the street and catch sight of the pink haired boy studying him from inside the car.

Embarrassed, Michael blushed, his own hands going to hit Ashton next to him as he said a very snappy, "Who is he?" That was more so anger than bashfulness, eyes unable to stop looking at the man who gave him a bit of a nod only to speak to Calum once more.

"That's Luke. He works for Cal, practically a co-boss in their business." His explanation was added onto when his body became free from the seatbelt and he reached over Michael to put the car window down, his hand and head popping out of the vehicle to wave and say a perky, "Hey, Luke!" To get his attention. 

Michael felt like shrinking into a tiny ball of his upmost anxiety to avoid any conversation with the guy that's way out of his league and highly intimidating.

"Nice to see you, Calum's babe." The blonde was stepping down from his porch, now aiming towards the car as he caught the sight he wanted with Michael. The boy was trying to hide behind Ashton's body that nearly fell from how far out of the car he is but Luke stopped him by resting his own arms on the window and quirking an eyebrow at the odd ball out in the car. "Who's this?" 

Michael instead fell quiet, only able to part his lips but cut himself off when he watched the way Luke's own hand landed on his sunglasses to bring them away from his face, folding them up and letting them pin onto his white t shirt under his jacket. The boy's green eyes studied their face further, losing all stability when- of course, with his luck- Luke has beautiful crystalline blue eyes that strike him completely off his feet.

"This is Michael. He's joining Calum and I for lunch." Ashton watched as the maori he loves started getting back in the car. Michael pretended to find Calum interesting, practically studying the brunette as intently as he could with his thumbs fumbling in his lap. There was nothing in his particular train of thought about him though, all his mind screamed was don't look at Luke. No matter how tempting it is, he'll just end up doing something stupid or embarrassing.

"Michael dances at the same place as me." Ashton's blabber mouth made further conversation with Luke, who felt the need to drum his fingers against the window as if trying to attract Michael to look but he stayed austere. Green eyes locked on how Calum flipped through radio stations to find something interesting.

All of a sudden two fingers tilted Michael's chin, moving his head so he'd look and see the upmost daggers in those blue eyes as he gave his face a long look only to bring those agonizingly blue eyes down his body then back up, and smirked. "A ballerina, eh?"

"Mhm." He blinked nervously, both green eyes darting up and down the blonde boy's body in return.

"Where's your tutu?"

"We only wear those on Thursdays." He meant to sound pushy but it ended up being extremely timid when it came down to the words actually falling past his lips, he had let his head drop to his lap and began to fumble with his thumbs.

"Luke, you're short thirty bucks for me, cough it up." Calum held the wad of cash already in his hand over the console as the blonde guy gave a discrete eye roll to the two before turning to deal with the bastard who took the time to count all one thousand five hundred (or technically four hundred and seventy) dollars that he owed him.

"You're a dick, did y'know that?" Luke slipped his hand into his pocket and grab his wallet again. Michael's eyes peering curiously as he thumbed through numerous fifties and hundreds before grabbing a twenty and ten with an overdone smile and snappy, "Buy yourself something pretty." To Calum who gave a fake laugh and snatched the money from him.

"Babe, can Luke eat with us?" Ashton had his head tilted to the side to give off the same puppy dog eyes he's given Michael at practice when they're on the third floor and he coerces the pink haired boy to do his errands that Madame Louise hands him on a list every Monday.

"He's nice, I like him." The dimples in Ashton's cheeks popped and now it basically sealed the deal when he smirks, "I'll do that thing you like when we get back to your place."

"Luke, get in the car." Calum had sent a not so kind and very abrupt yell to the blonde, practically making him fall into the passenger seat as the blonde complained. "I have shit to do, man. I gotta head out and get money from some clients!"

"Shut up, I'm granting you the day off." The maori's words made the blonde shut his mouth. Days off were rare and he is not going to pass one up. Michael's eyes widened with fear as he glanced at Ashton as if silently asking him what the hell that thing could possibly be, the dirty blonde only laughing quietly into his hand and whispered something about telling him later.

"So, what kind of fancy tricks can you do?" The blonde had nearly broke his neck from whipping around the chair he sat in to look at the highly intimidated pink haired boy who nervously bit down on his lip and sunk lower in his seat.

"All of them." He deadpanned awkwardly, a hand from Ashton had slapped the shorter boy out of discipline. The dimpled boy gave a rather cheesy smile, "He's the best at our school, Luke. You should come see him perform later this month."

"No, you shouldn't." Michael hadn't meant to sound rude but he really doesn't like the idea of Luke showing up and watching him dance. It's like social suicide to have someone as tough and masculine as Luke watch the most feminine boy in Sydney dance.

"Aw, don't be like that, sweetheart. I'd love to watch." Those blue eyes found Michael's duffel bag interesting before he spoke, "Is that the studio you dance at?" His eyes read the logo on the boy's black duffel bag and then shifted his glance to Michael's shirt and smirked when he saw the same studio logo printed onto that as well.

"Yeah." The shy boy had been nearing the state of pure shock as the blue eyed man had reached across the console and pulled the bag from the boy who dropped his jaw. "Madame's Dance Academy for the Talented? Sounds prissy." Luke got an up-close look at the logo before he had toyed with the zipper at the top, Calum didn't even protest against this and the two boys in the back don't stand a chance with fighting that blonde boy who obviously lifts.

The top of the bag fell open and the blonde gave a quirked eyebrow, smirking at what he saw, pushing aside his precious two hundred dollar pointe ballet shoes. His hands had picked up one of his tutu's, a spare sheer pink one, and gave a raised brow and smirked, "This is cute, put it on." Luke had thrown the item of clothing at the pink haired boy who looked as if steam was coming from his ears.

"I will not." He relented, crossing his arms as the car suddenly turned quiet besides the radio playing some old rock classics that Calum drummed his thumbs against the steering wheel to.

"Stop going through my bag." The ballerina had huffed, going to take it from the rebellious blonde who only smirked and stayed his usual non-conformist self. The blonde had peeked in it one last time. Almost just as fast as he had looked, he pulled away- an instant glance at Calum for a minute before he stared back into it, a new look on Luke's face.

"Holy shit," His lip ring went between his teeth, falling short of breath as he let his hooded eyes lift and stare at the green ones in the back seat. "You wear panties?"

Michael had gained enough strength to pull his bag back into his own lap and felt his stomach flip angrily and his usually soft, gentle green eyes had shot furious daggers to Luke who had smirked in response before he turned to face forward.

Calum must've heard what he said, because the brunette had wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at the blonde when he faced the front again. Michael felt embarrassed, his arms hugging his bag to his chest after stuffing everything back into it. Ashton reached across, giving an apologetic look to the fellow ballet boy and let his own hand smooth over the quiet one's shoulder in a comforting way. 

"What's so funny?" Ashton spoke on his best friend's behalf, curls flopping down over his eyebrows that were strung together, eyeing the older boys in the front who stifled laughs. The maori only soothed his boyfriend by waving his hand weakly and dying down his soft chuckles, "Luke's into that sorta thing s'all."

Of course he is, Michael mentally cursed. There's nothing about this that's making him happy at the moment. This felt like a waste of his time and he wants to go home and just scream into his pillow of his nice solitude of an apartment but yet they pulled into the parking lot of one of the run down diners of the Sydney area. It was somewhere in between the bad side and the good side of their town, all sorts of people come here. A small place with electric signs flashing open in red and blue, little red booths and a bar where they mix everything from alcohol to milkshakes. Michael's never been, but apparently these three go there often.

Being the odd one out, Michael walked behind the group and anxiously fixed his hair in the reflection of the diner glass door. The older men both wearing leather jackets had instantly brought in a new vibe as they walked in, their statures both tall and built that stuck with every customer. The workers however, smiled when they saw Ashton accompanying them with his much less intimidating best friend at his side.

"A booth or table?" The waitress had her brown hair in a loose ponytail as she picked up four menus with a cheerful smile, freckles dusted over her dimpled cheeks. Calum only rolled his eyes and took the menus from her and chose where they sat by himself, barely sparing more than a glance at the smile that fell from her face.

Careful not to be rude, the two boys who weren't complete assholes apologized to the girl before making their way to their booth chosen by the strong maori who tugged Ashton into his side of the booth leaving Michael to sit on the end of the other side with Luke's undeniably noticeable gaze on him. He had thought maybe it was a habit of his, that he does it to everyone. He even tried to ignore it for a long time and attempted to read the menu.

"It's impolite to stare, you know?" The pink haired boy quipped as his own amber eyes scanned the entree's with an unamused face.

The blonde only leaned over, hiding his face behind the menu so Calum and Ashton wouldn't see this exchange, those electric blue eyes staring solely at the part in Michael's rosy lips that pursed only to drop open infinitesimally so he could breathe in sharp gasps. Slowly, a calloused hand gripped his knee, smoothing it up to his thigh. Luke's lips going to Michael's ear to fan hot breaths over his skin and down his neck before he spoke lowly, "Just trying to imagine what you could be wearing underneath these." Luke toyed with the band of his leggings, he was intrigued. Michael was annoyed.

"Are the salads any good here?" Michael had folded the menu up and tried his best to ignore the way Luke kept looking at him. He may have moved his hands back to his own lap but that stare will probably never leave him alone. "Who the hell gets salad here?"

"I have to stay fit, I'm trying to lose five pounds so I can fit into my costume better, it feels tight." Michael had said it like he was embarrassed but Ashton seemed to understand. The other two only rolled their eyes.

The waiter approached them with a less excited smile, her head facing her little notepad as she clicked on the pen and said a timid, "Did you decide on your drinks yet?"

They went around the table starting with Ashton and by the time it got to Michael he gave the girl a just as shy smile and asked for a water with lemon, Luke's lips parting to intervene, "Actually, he'll have a strawberry milkshake."

"I'd rather water." Michael corrected and shooed the girl away with a pleading look, watching her shuffle into the kitchen to place their orders. The second that kitchen door swung shut Michael let his hand send a firm hit to the blonde's shoulder clad in leather. Mumbling curses at him as Calum and Ashton spoke to each other separately about what to order.

"Oh my God," The maori had turned cold the second he spotted someone sitting at the bar of the diner, his hands nearly tearing his menu in half as he sent a rather abrupt kick to Luke's shin under the table, nodding to the bar, "Grey hoodie, sunglasses." Calum pointed out who made him go into his protective stance.

The man didn't seem like a threat, in fact he looked friendly, laughing and joking with the older woman pouring him another beer. His skin was sickly pale though, paler than Michael at this point, a pack of cigarettes stashed in his pocket as he kept conversation with the waitress serving him.

"What'd he do?" Ashton tried to piece this together as the older boys exchanged looks as to whether or not they should tell them. Luke had opened the side of his leather jacket, nonchalantly checking he still had his gun and Michael nearly passed out when he realized that he was brandishing a fucking weapon this whole time. All he can defend himself with is his very dainty fists.

"That asshole owes me something." Luke was moving around Michael in no time, getting out of the booth and brushing past a couple people, Calum's eyes watching his every move intently to be sure he's not getting himself into trouble although he truly is just by approaching him.

The ballerina only settled into his side of the booth with an uncomfortable gloom, his green eyes yearning to look away so he doesn't seem crazy but he can't stop looking. There's some form of fear in his gut telling him not to look away. In case he misses something important.

He watched with wide forest green eyes as Luke slung an arm over the guy in the hoodie and faked a laugh at something the waitress said, the man he was with instantly tensing and trying to wriggle his way from the blonde's grip but Luke only relented. Pulling the man from the bar stool he had him in a not so discrete headlock, dragging the man onto the floor he muttered something inaudible through gritted teeth.

"Cal, don't." Ashton pinned his boyfriend down in the booth to keep him from standing up in hopes to help. The small groups catering stopped to stare in fear, a couple hiding their children as some ran out of the restaurant, waiters ducking behind the booths and bar as a few retreated into the kitchen.

Curiously, Michael's head tilted infinitesimally in thought, his words evading him before he could hesitate, "What does he owe Luke?" He whispered it so just his table could hear, watching as the man on the ground flinched at something Luke told him.

The brunette at the table clenched his jaw, clasping his hands together at the table, "Twenty grand." The second he said it Luke had his boot clad foot kicking the man in the gut, getting him to wince and groan in pain. The man only let him do this, though scrambling to leave, he never tried to fight back. He didn't look strong enough that he could.

"How much do you have for me?" Luke's jaw clenched down to speak through gritted teeth, well aware of the scene he's causing. The man dug into his pocket floundering in his anxiousness, his wallet was flimsy and all he could do was slip out a small amount of dollar bills for some sort of pay. Luke took it with a grimace, counting it quickly before he shook his head and kicked him again. "Two hundred bucks can't save you from shit."

"I-I-I can get more! By the end of the month!" That was a little less than three weeks from now. Luke's foot went back to swing, angling it so if he did kick it'd be a center hit on the man's head. Luckily, the guy had flinched, covering his head protectively as he shouted a quick, "I swear!" That made the blonde smirk and back away, allowing him to scurry from the diner and leave the taller, built man to turn around. His eyes on his table as he took the beer that the client got and drank a couple swigs from it before he slammed the cup onto the bar and left the diner without another word.


	2. catch me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna try to update this every 7-8 days if not weekly! so with that said, enjoy chapter two!

Almost nothing changed in Michael's life after that lunch. Besides the overwhelming paranoia that Luke and his leather jacket stashing a gun haunting his every move. Everything had been completely normal. Saturday's dress rehearsal was it's usual chaotic, hectic, downright terrifying rehearsal for six hours that made Michael sleep in until two in the afternoon Sunday morning. He had nothing except spare time that day and lounged around his apartment dancing to some of today's hits in his underwear and a pair of fuzzy socks while making pancakes.

Now it's Monday, a very agonizing Monday. His black leotard, black tights, and sheer pink split skirt adorned his petite frame as he stayed behind after regular rehearsal. All of the fellow prima's discussing random topics as they filed out of the room and left Michael with his coach for extra rehearsal. He asked for it, she loves his determination to be perfect. It was unlike anyone else in the studio, he persists on working till his feet are in pain and his arms are sore from stretching them so they look effortlessly beautiful despite the amount of work put into such a form.

Madame Louise was her usual snappy self, the remote controlling the sound system clutched in her one hand as the other lifted his left leg so it was perfectly bent behind him. His green eyes were wincing shut but he had to get used to the burning muscles and perfect form.

"Arms spread," She critiqued, pulling his arms into place so they'd reach behind and ahead of him separately, the woman tapping her hand under his chin so he'd look straight ahead. "Less strain, more grace." Her eyes bore into his posture that screamed uncomfortable. The way his eyebrows furrowed and his teeth bit down on the inside of his cheek to fight a whimper.

Disguising his pain was something he had learned to do ever since he started to learn harder techniques over the years. His eyes feigned this peaceful serenity that matches the accompaniment and each crease in his forehead effaced as he took his mind off of the burning in his legs.

"Excellent, from the top!" Her trusty remote control just nearly pressed play before the door to the private studio swung open and a familiar head of golden blonde hair stumbled into the room with his one hand still clutching the door knob for dear life as he seemed to break into a smile when he saw a very unenthused Michael changing from his pose that he was practicing to a very tense stature of bawled fists and a clenched jaw.

"This is a private lesson!" Madame Louise's shrill voice made Luke become taken back for a bit before he regained his composure enough to reply with a shrug, "I just wanted to be nice and pick Michael up from rehearsal but he didn't tell me he was staying behind after so I came up here to see if he was alright."

"Do you know him?" His coach had accused the pink haired boy immediately, those wide green eyes blinking twice in a fit to see if this was actually happening or if Luke was just his imagination.

His head shook, "No, madame." Lying was the only way out of this. He'll be doomed for no solos until next year and that is not what he wants. He's worked his dancer's ass off for a soloist role and he is not losing it because of this prick.

"In that case, you need to leave, sir." Madame's hand sent a strict point to the door for Luke to leave but the blonde only stayed, gawking at the rehearsal room, it's floors were so clean and the windows had let in the afternoon's sun so perfectly along the wooden floors, glinting off of the mirrors that splayed across one out of the four walls.

"This place is so fancy." Those blue eyes soaked in every detail, eyeing the room until he fell back onto Michael and lifted a brow in curiosity at his outfit before his coach scoffed, "Flattering will get you nowhere, for the last time, leave."

"You heard her, Luke." The boy spat without thinking, the woman he was with turning back to him, "So you do know this man?" Her eyes widened hearing her student give a name to the boy and her lips pursed in anger, he just outed himself and Michael wants to yell.

"Well, yes, but he's not a friend." His head fell to the floor in shame. He feels terrible for lying, it's disrespectful and she'll hate him for sure now. He'll no longer be her favorite in the studio and maybe he is taking that high title a bit seriously yet it's so hard to get on her good side in the first place. If he loses that it'll be five times harder than before to regain her trust.

"Very well then, this private practice is over since your not-friend Luke is being impatient."

"But Madame-"

"No but's except your's practicing those arabesque's alone for the next half hour." She left the room in an outrage. Tossing the remote onto the floor and rushing past Luke who found this funny and laughed under his breath the moment the door shut and it was just the two of them.

"Nice skirt." He leaned against the barre on the side and let the dancer ignore him and just click play on the remote as classical music filled the room and the boy had stared at his own reflection, thinking about being as light as a feather before he heard his cue and instantly went en pointe, the very tip of his toes.

Luke had never been intrigued by frou-frou tutu wearing dances. Honestly, he found them as a bore and would catch himself falling asleep watching it. But when Michael got into his position and moved from place to place on that floor it was like a new wave of change washed over him and he could see why people pay loads of money to see ballerina's dance on stage, why parent's enrolled their kids into classes, why every person in this studio falls in love with Michael's body and the way it looks so graceful and calm when he's under so much pressure.

His forehead beaded with sweat and his fingertips splayed out so beautifully, every spin better than the next as he glided across the floor, the tempo slowing down as the tune softened and he brought his pace lower to match. His leg lifted like he practiced but his grounded foot wobbled, his leg instantly going back down as he groaned and stopped the music.

"Why did you-" "Shut up." Michael hissed at the blonde and fixed his fringe in the mirror before puffing some air out of his lungs to catch his breath.

"But that was-" "I said shut up." Luke's lips pursed, his lip ring getting toyed with while Michael repeated his arabesque multiple times in the mirror, watching his form meticulously. Critiquing himself in his mind as he laid his shoulders back and tilted his chin up before he felt okay with how he looked.

"Aren't you in pain?" The blonde had winced just looking at how he was stretching his leg unbelievably high, all while balancing on the tip of his toe. The pink haired boy nodded, "Lots of it." He smiled, "But it looks nice, doesn't it?" His head peered over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of a very confused Luke nodding as he moved from the barre to the floor, now sitting up against the mirror to see a frontal view of his dance.

Michael had no courage left in him or enough strength to tell the blonde to leave because he's distracting him so when he rewinded the music ten seconds back and pressed play he tried his best to ignore him. His arabesque was alright, but not perfect the second time yet still improved so he moved on through the routine, his eyes glued on his reflection as he spun skillfully until he turned out and let his leg rise up to go straight up behind him and fall just as fast. Luke's eyes never left from Michael. He was so fascinated with him for the first time.

As he went through his routine step by step his eyes drew away from the mirror and landed on Luke, the rebellious blonde not even emoting anything as his eyes just studied every move he made. Almost mastering the stare Madame uses when she's trying to find something wrong in what Michael's doing, she never comes up with anything though and Luke can't either. It was in the way his body could bend and spin yet never even wince, how his eyes would shut and he'd fall under the spell of the music, turning with his eyelashes on his cheeks as his skirt unfurled. He was ethereal. Luke never wanted to forget that moment with Michael.

The music died down and the boy had merely fluttered open his eyes to focus on the blonde who clapped in praise, the rings on his fingers glistening against the sun's rays. All of the notes decrescendo-ing in the recording as Michael made his way over to his duffel bag trying to hide his face so the blush wouldn't be noticeable. The second he shut his eyes it was like Luke was gone. It was just Michael and the music.

"By the way Michael, Luke's picking you up." Ashton peered his head through the door as the ballerina boy jumped at his voice and grabbed his water bottle before swigging some of it and awkwardly looking between Ashton and Luke until they both made eye contact and the curly haired boy connected the dots that he's a bit late on telling him that. "Oh." He perked up in his mood when seeing the blonde already in the room, "Great! I'm going to Calum's place so we have to raincheck hanging out."

"Of course you are." Michael should've known honestly, something always happens when they try to make plans. They both practice five or six hours every day and that takes up enough time as is. Every day Michael has to lie down for an hour or so after practice and ice his ankles to make sure nothing bad happens to them and Ashton's always off with Calum having sex as if it's their last day on Earth to do so.

"I promised him, you know that. I told him I'd do the thing he likes-" "Yeah, when you get home." He quoted him from yesterday with a pout. Ashton's eyes grew sorrowful, "He got an emergency call, he had to leave the second we parked in his driveway."

"Woah, woah woah." Luke interfered, his hand pointing strictly at Ashton for his attention, "What's the thing Calum likes. I need some blackmail, he ratted me out in the car." The request was odd but valid, he did tell Michael that Luke likes guys in panties but he didn't seem to mind him saying that. If anything it made him more comfortable with getting all up in Michael's business.

And okay, maybe Michael wants to know what the thing is too.

Nervously, the curly haired boy eyed the two who dropped everything to hear what it is. Those hazel eyes checked no one was eavesdropping down the hall and when he realized the coast was clear he smirked, "I call him daddy." His head shook, that smirk still plastered onto his best friend's face. "He practically gets off when I say it once."

"God, that's priceless!" Luke was pulling out his phone, unlocking it hastily with a devious plan in mind. "Everyone's gonna die when they hear Hood has a daddy kink." He had started typing on his phone and Ashton blushed, feeling bad that he let out a secret from his relationship. However when he remembered yesterday's antics he settled.

"I have to go now but I'll text you after I'm done." The dirty blonde gave an exaggerated wink before he left the room giving them the awkward silence they didn't ask for. The blonde stood from the floor expecting the boy to be done for the day but instead Michael shut his water bottle and brought a hand up to wipe his lips of any excess, planning to run his routine one last time.

"You have nice legs for ballet, did you know that?" He pointed out the thing that just hit him, watching Luke stand brought his eyes to his legs and he realized how they're nearly a ballerina's dream legs. Of course a bit lanky, but still so nice.

"And there goes my masculinity." Luke sighed, clasping his calloused hands together in defeat. The boy across the room rolled his amber eyes. Luke's unbelievable. Not in a good way, either. An egotistical douche bag who values his masculinity more than a compliment.

"Ballet can be masculine." His pink lips pouted out of anger, the crease in between his eyebrows forming as he huffed to let out some fuming irritation, "Have you ever seen what Ashton does?"

A quick shake of Luke's head in response.

There's a huge difference between how Michael dances and how Ashton dances. Michael's routines are feminine and graceful with delicate movements and poised spins. Ashton, on the other hand, holds the masculine role, he twirls the girls and keeps his movements tough and strong. They are two completely different dancers.

"Catch me." The boy breathed out the words before Luke could even process them, the pink haired, green eyed ballerina had been falling into a delicate sprint before he leapt, a strong push off the ground that made Luke instinctively catch the boy by the waist to secure him from ever falling. His weight was practically nothing, the leap from the floor helping in the case as the momentum gave him some flight momentarily. Michael's own smile curving onto his lips as he felt Luke lift him up so his face would waver above the blonde and his legs would gracefully bend, one remaining straight as the other bent up at the knee slowly. His arms sprawled out like wings, the blue in Luke's eyes blinking as he stared awestruck at what was happening.

"Oh my God, that was incredible!" A new voice joined the two. Luke's hands fumbling to put the boy down who anxiously spun around only to freeze when he saw Naomi at the door, her hand over her mouth as she smiled like an idiot, still dressed head to toe in her dance clothes unaware of how uncomfortable she was making them, "I came back up because I forgot my phone but holy shit, Michael that giselle lift was perfect and. . .and you," Her manicured finger pointed at Luke while her feet ran up to him, "You have such a good frame for that, you're a natural dancer."

"Naomi, please just-" Michael handed the girl her phone for her to hurry this up and shook his head, his head facing the floor out of shyness, "Forget that ever happened."

"But it was gorgeous!" She elaborated further, "You should've seen you two, it was stunning and the emotion, you two looked like you were in love! If Madame saw that you would've been handed a winter solo no doubt about it, Michael I-"

"It didn't mean anything." The ballerina interrupted her with a very dramatic sigh afterwords, "It was a one time thing, I just wanted to see if Luke could lift me. . .he can." His feet rocked on his heels, his ballet shoes starting to hurt now that he stopped dancing for a long enough time to realize it.

"Fine." She huffed. "But that was ten times better than any lift you've done with Ashton." Her black hair still pinned in it's bun left the room as she stomped down the hall and out the studio. Leaving them alone as Michael went over to his bag and started to unravel the ribbons around his shins to take off his shoes. He still had a good ten minutes left for himself in the studio but he can't even bother at this point.

Rushing, he slipped on his sneakers and zipped up his bag before he slung it over his shoulder in defeat. "Just drive me home."

Luke's eyebrows furrowed, "Are we not going to talk about what just happened?" His hands gestured to the spot they were once at doing a lift that takes most dancers months to perfect. His blonde quiff getting fingers run through it as he chewed on his lip ring, "What the hell was that?"

"It was nothing."

"Are you gonna deny that there was something when we did that?"

"Yes. I am. Now take me home." He stormed out of the room with a very pissed off Luke in tow trying to wrap his head around why that's such a bad thing. They just shared some weird moment that honestly freaked him out and yet Michael's denying it. The look they shared had a deeper meaning, the smile that he got from those pink lips and the glimmer in those green eyes. That meant something.

Going out the front doors after walking down the stairs and breathing the fresh air, though a bit windy and not that warm, was refreshing. The breeze made leaves shudder and the grass wave. The clouds were light and puffy as Michael tried to locate which car is Luke's before the blonde twirled his keys and nodded to a black motorcycle.

"Oh, fuck that. I am not getting on that death machine." He went to turn back into the studio and just ask a dancer for a ride in their safe car. But no, Luke's hand found his shoulder and turned him so they could head to his bike, "You'll be fine." He lead him to the vehicle and twisted the key into the ignition, it's engine growling to life as Michael flinched at the noises it made, it's handles getting gripped firmly by Luke who sat on it expecting him to join on anytime soon but the pink haired boy was still holding his helmet in fear. The blonde's own black matte helmet on his head shielded his face with the visor down over his eyes.

Swallowing his fear like it was liquid made him put the helmet on and sat in the back of the bike, Luke's voice saying where to position himself over the sound of the engine. "Luke this doesn't feel very safe." He muttered in a trembling voice, wrapping his arms around the guy who laughed at his statement. "You'll love it, trust me. Now, where am I going?"

He had started driving slow, getting out of the parking lot below the speed limit was assuring nonetheless, Michael likes his bandages ripped off slowly not all at once. So when Luke surprised him by speeding down the road he had buried his head as deep as he could into Luke's back despite the strong stench of cigarettes and cologne that overtook him.

They were twisting down roads that led to his neighborhood and Luke nearly killed the two of them by sneaking through two cars to get ahead faster. They're not even in a rush. He's just doing this to irk Michael some more and it is most definitely working.

He had spent so much time hiding his face in Luke's coat that when he looked up he barely notice the foreign surroundings, his eyes blinking shut hard only to open wide and realize Luke took him downtown instead of the complete opposite way where he lives.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Michael's face scrunched into aggravation, his mind ready to implode with the anger that he holds to this boy. Luke's motorcycle rumbled as he propped it up aside six others of different variety, Michael's hand swatting the blonde's bicep when he ignored him, if this is supposed to be some kind of joke he's not laughing.

"Just follow me." He instructed the boy who stomped his foot on the ground in protest and huffed, "I don't want to hang out with you and your creepy gang."

At his words the blonde tensed, obviously striking a nerve unintentionally that made his eyes cast down onto him and made the blonde's jaw tense, all of the confidence once inside of him switched to anger. The same look he gave the man in the restaurant was shot directly at Michael. A bone chilling rush of fear hitting him as he remembered the gun in his jacket and gulped.

"Don't talk about them like that." Luke sent a finger jabbing into Michael's chest. "They're the closest thing to family I've got and if you hate on them you're on my bad side, and trust me you do not want to be on my bad side. So take it back, princess."

"I'm s-sorry." He whispered, starting to head to the door and stop fussing so he won't get killed. Literally. Discipline is normal for him, ballet classes were full of it growing up but the second Luke changed in front of his eyes and got mad at him he forgot how to remain calm in situations like that.

Standing at the door and waiting for Luke he could already hear people talking and laughing inside, the windows shut however he could see people in the room enjoying beers and relaxing in couches. His head glanced down at his outfit, ready to feel judged, Ashton's clothes for ballet are the usual trackies with a white shirt. He never wore a tutu in his life, Michael's wearing his split skirt and leotard with black tights. He felt so underdressed.

"By the way, I took you here because Ashton's here." The blonde murmured his reasoning matter-of-factly before he pushed open the door and let the voices become clear, the two walking in on the conversation pertaining towards their business. Michael's feet staying planted in the entrance of the hallway so he wouldn't be seen, only letting Luke walk into the left entrance. He doesn't know what to expect so staying in the hall where nobody can see him is his resort.

". . .guy who can't even remember what he had ordered started yapping to me, claimed that I said three fifty over the- Hemmings, welcome back!" The man who spoke was short but built, his eyes a dark brown with black hair and stubble, his own body adorned in a torn Led Zeppelin tee and skinny jeans that were torn and frayed. The beer in his hand swished around, "Hood's already on round two, Ashton came down in between to grab him a cigarette."

"We're trying to keep the conversation going to drown out the sound of them banging the headboard into the wall." The guy closest to Luke spoke, his hair a mess of brown curls as he held up his finger to silence everyone for a moment and let the constant thud from the room above them hit their ears, a couple of the guys gagging to make the silence go away. Their voices chiming in to shout curses at the ceiling, one of the guys even standing up to knock at the ceiling with a broom as he cursed them out.

"Alright, that's it. I'm going up there to tell them to stop, my ears can't take it." The sound of footsteps getting louder made Michael panic, his only option being to leave but then they'd hear the door shut and make it even more obvious. A guy walking into the hallway instantly stopped in his tracks when he spotted him and shifted towards Michael, "How'd a pretty thing like you make you're way here, eh?" The guy was taller than him, with bright hazel eyes and tattoos over every segment of his body, the man's septum pierced as well as his eyebrow. Aggressively, he took a stern hold of the ballerina's arm, a bit too tight for his liking, and dragged him into the living room to be seen.

All eyes blinked at the sight, mostly curious towards his entire appearance compared to what they usually see around here. A low mumble going around the room that made him feel self conscious and writhe in the grip on his weak bicep. The man's rings on his fingers hurting and pinching his skin.

Right off the bat, Michael searched for Luke in the room. Those pale blue eyes were nowhere in sight as he felt his body get pushed to the ground onto his knees, the carpet giving him brush burns through his tights as he winced. "Trespassing's not very nice, you know?" A click was heard and he felt his lungs cease work at the feeling of cool metal pressing against the top of his head. His eyes shutting tight to try and block out the fact he heard a click, concluding that he definitely put the nuzzle of a gun against his head and it is most definitely off of safety mode.

"Why the fuck do you guys drink every good beer and leave the bad ones for me?" Luke's voice was in a different room but grew closer as he spoke, his body re-entering only to drop his beer on the ground and curse, "Jesus Christ, don't shoot him, he's with me!" The blonde gestured to Michael who looked just about ready to cry as he feels the gun go away and clicked back into safety.

"This is the boy Ashton asked you to pick up?" The man who nearly killed him furrowed his eyebrows, the outfit starting to make sense but also still confusing. "Yeah, and if any of you keep looking at him like that I won't be afraid to fire you all." Those now cold blue eyes drilled into each pair in the room before he took Michael by the wrist and stood him back up onto two feet. The room still in shock as Luke got their attention, a couple people intimidated as some were just annoyed.

"Another pretty dancer in this house, can you twirl for us, sweetheart?" The same guy who struck the ceiling with a broom propped his chin in his hand and smirked, getting Michael to shake his head and back up into Luke's chest. He'd rather not be judged any harder than he was already.

"Ashton always dances for Calum, are you dancing for Luke?" He coaxed further, his eyebrows rising as a couple of the guys wolf whistled and Luke only groaned, "You guys are fucking pervs come on, let's go upstairs." The strong hands belonging to Luke found Michael's waist and guided him out of the room in a hurry, the ballerina only feeling more self conscious and nervous when another thick Australian voice chimed in, "Yeah, go upstairs and give him a private performance." The room started laughing louder.

They hurried up the steps and into the hallway upstairs, much smaller than the one below them, mainly because this was where all of the bedrooms for eight people were. Three of the five rooms suited two people, while Luke and Calum got their own because they ran the whole business.

Just as they were getting ready to reach Luke's door the one across from it opened, Ashton adorned in just one of Calum's shirts and nothing else beamed a bright smile when he saw Michael, "Luke, did you bring him here?" He leaned against his door to block the view inside as he gave a curt nod in response.

"No way! Did you meet the guys? Aren't they great?" The obvious flushed red cheeks of Ashton's face dimpled but the ballerina in the hall was just about ready to scream.

"They're rude." His hands crossed over his chest. "Nothing but a bunch of disgusting scumbags."

"Who the hell's insulting my gang?" Calum showed up behind the dirty blonde, dimpled boy who grew sorrowful at his best friend's words, those furious brown eyes falling to Michael who wriggled nervously, afraid to speak up and admit he did it even though they all know it was him.

"I'm afraid I have to agree, they nearly killed him downstairs. Literally. Christian put a gun to his head and thought he was trespassing, then Hunter thought it'd be a good idea to catcall him." Luke's eyes were staring at Calum with a newfound icy stare, "Just because your boyfriend likes to banter with them doesn't mean everyone else does."

"Yeah, but they're just jokes." The maori was leaning against the doorframe, his half naked body hidden by Ashton who listened to this conversation with a lost, awestruck look. He never thought that those comments were serious, he never took them that way at least. Those hazel eyes blinking at Luke in fear, "What'd they say?"

"The same shit they say to you, dancing for Calum, private performances- I'm just glad they didn't get to say any blowjob jokes." He cringed as he finished his sentence, shaking his head before looking at the way Ashton parted his (kiss swollen) lips only to clamp them shut and frown, looking behind him at his boyfriend for some sort of reinforcement or promise that he'll tell them to stop. He only shrugged.

Michael felt his stomach churn uncomfortably at the idea of there being more jokes up their sleeves.

"What do you expect? They don't mean to be rude it's just for some laughs."

"Does it look like Michael's laughing right now, Calum?" The attention turned to the petite boy who was staring at the ground in shame, hiding the glossy eyes and alabaster cheeks that were starting to turn a bright vermillion from embarrassment. His hands holding onto the hem of his skirt and playing with the edges to distract himself. Luke's hands were still on his waist, holding him so his back lied against the guy's torso as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth.

A sigh hit their ears, Calum's feet shuffling around for a minute or two before he walked past the door now in plain black basketball shorts but no shirt, his exposed brown skin was covered in marks, whether love bites or scratches, Ashton didn't go easy on him and it was very clear whether he wanted it to be (he did) or not.

"Whatever, I'll talk to them." His feet shuffled down the hall lazily, muttering curses to himself under his breath that no one could necessarily decipher. Ashton's lips parting to speak some form of apology but got interrupted by Calum who called for him to come downstairs.

"Come on." Luke pulled him into his room without a second to spare, the door shutting softly with a click as the pink haired boy was met with very low standards of a bedroom. The walls were painted white but appeared to be chipped away and starting to fade. The wooden floor was stable but covered in dirty clothes and random items- phone chargers, an alarming amount of dust, and shoes. His bed wasn't even a bed, but instead, a mattress on the ground with two pillows and tattered sheets and blankets for covers. He had no tv, his closet doors were shut, the ceiling was cracked and Michael suddenly realized his privileges in wealth as opposed to Luke.

It confused him though, he makes a ton of money, Calum gets thousands a week and if Luke's the co-boss he should be getting just as much. Why doesn't he have anything that's actually sustainable?

"Thank you." Michael whispered it out of nowhere, his body turning away from the mess of a room to face Luke, those vermillion cheeks starting to tone down to a rosy pink dusting across his nose and cheeks, the blonde's lip ring going in between his teeth to toy with it and gave a nod to say you're welcome.

Without thinking Michael's hands found the boy's shoulders, using those to help expertly lift himself onto his toes so he could get his lips to grace over Luke's much paler ones. His mind going blank without second-guessing and leading him to slot their lips together, the tall punk immediately kissing back and taking the lead as his hands found Michael's cheeks and cupped the alabaster skin for support, tilting his head to the side for better leverage, his own worries washing away as he could feel the tension start to fill the room, every time they'd start to pull away for air they'd find each other's lips a second later, intertwining and mixing as they tasted each other. Michael's hands gripping tufts of Luke's shirt below his jacket to make sure he doesn't lose himself in a couple kisses.

He didn't even know what to expect when he felt Luke's hand find his skirt and start to undo the fabric so it would fall to the ground, his touch was traveling up his spine until he could feel hands in his hair.

Before they further a voice rang from the hallway, "Luke, I'm ordering take out what do you want?" The door swung open and knocked the blonde upside the head unexpectedly as he immediately stopped what he was doing to grip the back of his head that had a steady drum of pain. Michael's hands immediately grabbed his skirt off the floor and started to hastily tie it on with trembling hands, Ashton's head peeking into the room as he immediately caught onto what was happening.

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt?" Those hazel eyes swarmed with mischief when he met the stare of Michael, shooting his best friend an apologetic smile who only finished tying his skirt back on with his mouth sealed shut. "God, just. . .just get me whatever you're having."

The dirty blonde glanced at his best friend, asking him what he wanted wordlessly, "I'm not hungry." He whispered awkwardly, he has a meal waiting for him in his fridge at home. Tofu cooked with peppers and brown rice. If he wants his costume to fit better it's gonna be a very diet-filled month for him.

"Well, alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone." Ashton's hand shutting the door, it's click sounding as the pink haired boy nervously flattened over the fabric of his skirt with clammy hands and stared at his own feet. The blonde across from him opening his mouth to speak but Ashton's voice sounded down the hall with a loud, "Use protection!" That made them both roll their eyes.

Being curt, Michael met those vibrant blue eyes after ten seconds of his mind working up the courage to break the tension, "I'd like to go home now." He tried to keep a steady tone that would get him taken seriously, a bit surprised when the blonde gave a short nod, opening the door to oblige and lead the way. It was weird considering everything they did today had Luke asking question after question. Yet when they kiss he's dead quiet? It seems odd.

That kiss was something he had done by impulse, he just acted on the spur of the moment and before he could process what he was doing, his lips were on his. He's not gonna deny it felt good and that they had some form of chemistry but he also won't deny that he's unsure he wants to do it again. Luke's not who he wants to be around, his friends are assholes, and he's nowhere close to being on the same level of their caste system. Luke's in a bad part of town doing bad things, Michael's in the rich upper development where his dance skills pay his bills with plenty extra on the side.

Pulling himself from his thoughts he trekked down the last few steps of the stairs and into the hallway, Luke's broad back tense and straightened when he peered into the living room to see the guys had started to play some form of poker on the coffee table, a mound of cash for the winner placed in the middle.

Calum's good luck charm of a boyfriend on his lap with one hand holding his cards down as the other gripped the inside of Ashton's thigh. One of them spotted Michael hiding meekly behind Luke's frame, the ballerina's glowing eyes curious but intimidated as he studied the guys all around the room, "Leaving so soon?" A guy who seemed close to his age but still young, maybe sixteen or seventeen, had spoke to him with a cigarette between his lips. Distinctly brown eyes that contrasted to his pale skin, shirtless to show a wound that must've just been attended to for it's white bandages wrapped around his right hip already had crimson blood staining through it. His chest covered in smaller, tiny scratches as his arms holding cards were branded by brush burns and bruises.

They all knew Michael was staring in bewilderment at the kid, a literal young kid, who was hurt more than he had ever been in his life. With a smirk, the guy laughed, nodding to the ballet boy, "What's-a-matter? Have y'never seen a damn wound before?" His laugh was gruff but somehow wavered in between adolescence and maturity. "Hemmings got it far worse than me, that's f'sure."

His explanation stopped when Calum let his cards lay face forward on the table, announcing a proud, "Flush." Before they collectively groaned and Ashton clapped joyously, pulling the cash over to them as he started counting it.

"I'm driving Michael home, I'll be back in ten, fifteen." The tall blonde ball-parked how long it may take so they know when they should start worrying if he comes back after a half hour or longer.

They all grumbled farewells as Ashton gave a sincere smile to Michael, as a wordless goodbye and a see you later since they'll both be at the studio tomorrow. Leaving in tow to the blonde who twirled his keys in his hand as they ambled up to the motorcycle in the driveway.

Just as the sun was about to set, oranges and pinks mixed with the purple color irking its way up in the West, the blonde sighed, not starting his bike up just yet so he could speak to the dancer in private, "Dillon's a newbie, we thought he could handle doing a deal by himself but he ended up getting mauled by some shitty fucking rivals. That's why he's hurt." Those blue eyes stared at the ground, where he kicked an old cigarette, "He got a bullet in his hip and they scratched him up by throwing him down onto the concrete, when he didn't come back after an hour we headed out to search for him and found him unconscious."

The part in Michael's lips allowed him to sharply inhale, his eyes lost with how the hell that could even happen to someone. No one in his development has even scraped their knees. The worst injury he ever had was a sprained ankle when he landed wrong which led him to believe his career was over at the age fifteen. A gun shot in his hip wasn't even fathomable to him.

Luke continued curtly, "They could've killed him, but they didn't, they like to fuck with us and just torture our workers to the brink of death but keep it so they don't."

Michael's eyebrows knit together in confusion, "Did they do the same thing to you?" He asked it innocently, because he wasn't thinking before he speaks and Dillon did mention that Luke had worse wounds on him.

At his question the blonde laughed, heartily and lowly almost as if he said a crude joke of sorts. Luke's head lifted to stare at the setting sun and examine the streets just so he wouldn't have to look at the boy in front of him. "God, no. Not quite, I went to go help search for the kid and I was the first to find him, they were trying to get a couple kicks to his gut when I fought back," His hand lifted his shirt up to show numerous bandages, white gauze around his ribs as he brushed them off nonchalantly as if it's no big deal, yet Michael was in utter shock. "Three men against one isn't fucking fair, I can tell you that much. I got the worst of it on my back, Ashton actually helped clean the wounds for me at four in the morning."

"That's terrible." The ballerina's frail touch traced across Luke's bandages, concern lacing his delicate features as he shook his head. "I'm sorry you had to go through that." He uttered, dropping his hand back to his side as the shirt fell down again to cover the marks.

"It's my job."

"It shouldn't be." He insisted, both of his eyes turning dark with a bit of anger because there's no excuse that can account as valid towards that sort of behavior. A job shouldn't including hurting yourself in the description.

A twist of the key in the ignition brought the subject to a halt, Luke's helmet clicked on as Michael followed suit, assuming his position behind the blonde, arms around his knowingly bandaged chest, a fuzzy mind swarming with more questions until he drowned them out with the engine revving and the wind blocking his hearing while they sped to his development across town.

By the time he had ended up in his neighborhood, after shouting directions at Luke over the sound of the motor he could finally stand in front of his apartment complex.

But he had an urge to invite him in, to help nurse to his wounds and maybe kiss him again, with more meaning this time. For he had gotten to know one little thing about the blonde than he knew yesterday. But as fast as he had handed Luke his helmet back, the faster he had sped away. Back to where he belongs.

A longing feeling struck through Michael like the bullets Luke has been shot with, his heart feeling empty as he instinctively clutched a protective hand over it, as if telling the pulse to slow down and stop racing over the blonde. Yet it never did. Not when he entered the lobby, not while he took the elevator to the ninth floor, not when he pulled out his keys, and definitely not while he sat on his couch unable to watch tv as he ate his dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always thank you thank you thank you for reading and if you want more leave some kudos or come talk to me on my tumblr (malumaffairs)


	3. just a kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let the drama begin ;)

In the morning, exactly at six am, Michael's phone blares the usual alarm ringtone to wake him up, the sun just barely peeking past the curtains he had in his bedroom to land on his fluffy blankets that he burrowed himself into last night. He was tired but willed himself to shut off his repetitive alarm and kept his eyes open. His screen was lit up with a text from Ashton, the boy always wakes up before the sun even rises. 

want a ride to dance?

Swiping his thumb to the left he opened up the whole conversation of messages with Ashton and typed back a grateful 'yes pls' that gave him something to get ready for with a lot less grumpiness and undeniable dread. He's petrified to face his instructor after what happened yesterday. His second alarm went off ten minutes later to urge him out of his bed and let his tired body shuffle to the bathroom where he brushed his teeth and hair before getting dressed into Tuesday's dance clothes- throwing on his leggings over one of his leotards and slipped his vans on his feet. 

Now much more prepared and definitely ahead of time he grabbed a yogurt from the fridge and watched some random reality show on his tv until he felt his phone buzz from beside him on the couch, a call from Ashton. The contact photo being one of the ugly selfies his best friend took his phone for to snapchat on his story. The unflattering angle making him laugh and press the green button to answer. 

"Hey," He huffed, standing from the sofa to grab his duffle bag from the doorway, if he's calling then he's either waiting for him or just nearing his apartment complex. Ashton's voice hit his ear, "Hi, okay, so, bad news. I can't pick you up, Calum's a dumbass and already dropped me off and I know you don't like him that much so I won't put you through that hell. He's in a bad mood today." 

"Ash, I already told my mum she doesn't have to drive me-" Michael felt his anger start to rise but subsided it in order to be in a somewhat good mood. He can't drive himself, he doesn't even have his license because he fails his test every single time.

"I know that, but, I sent Luke to get you instead!" Now it made sense. The wheels were turning in his mind and he understood the reality of this. Ashton purposely 'forgot' he needed to pick him up so he had a valid excuse to send Luke his way. 

"He's there, I think. He just texted me saying he's at your place." The pink haired boy could practically see the smirk on his best friend's face as he said that. His own amber eyes rolling back as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door with a groan, "You've got to be kidding me." The boy exaggerated his irritation as he started down the elevator by himself, a laugh from his friend on the other line followed by a very loud, "I'm being a good friend. Now go make out with him." Three beeps echoed afterwords showing he hung up on Michael and left him to fend for himself. 

He saw the kiss, or at least the aftermath of it, yesterday in Luke's room so now he thinks they're a fling or that they are going to be one and he is wrong. They were just trying it out at that point, Michael was curious. Just like the lift in the rehearsal room yesterday he was just wondering without hesitation because Luke makes him feel careless. 

The sliding doors to the elevator revealed the lobby's bright white tiled floor and silver walls, the old lady working the receptionist's counter gave him one of her warm smiles as he waved to her before leaving, very few people are actually up in the morning and Michael is one of the few who is up during her shift nearly every day. 

Swinging open the door to the complex he immediately heard the familiar rumble of a motorcycle engine and he couldn't help but hide his smile as he saw Luke waiting for him on the bike, spare helmet in his lap as he watched the boy approach him with his ballet clothes on. A skip to his step unlike the blonde who hates being up this early with a passion but when Michael was mentioned he couldn't say no, so here he was, unbelievably tired but also unbelievably fascinated with the ballerina who took the helmet from him. 

"Do you own a car?" Michael's voice shouted, he's not exactly a fan of any of this guy's lifestyle and he knows that this is the bad boy stereotypical thing to do but he'd rather not sit uncomfortably on his ass for the ten minute drive to dance while clinging onto the blonde with an undeniable fear he'll die. 

"You wish." The blonde laughed as he pulled the tinted visor to his helmet so no wind would get in his face, the feeling of a body going behind him made his smirk grow, twisting the handles so the engine revved louder to get the boy to jump and slap his arm with a groan and very ignorant, "Don't do that!" His whining getting him nowhere as he only latched onto Luke's torso and tried his best to drown out the overbearing engine in his ears as they drove down his neighborhood. 

The dance school couldn't have been on it's busiest day ever for it being close to seven in the morning- but, somehow, the breezy weather and subtly bright sun was the main reason why most of the dancers were talking outside or walking in at the exact same time Luke dropped Michael off. The brick building looked a lot less dull with so many teenagers discussing random things around it. Luke's bike coming to a stop as Michael got off with wobbly, weak legs that tingled but soon wore off the longer he stood. 

He clicked off the helmet, handing it to Luke with a very timid look, people were staring and he can tell it's not jealous stares or envious ones. It's downright confusion and fear. Burning into the back of his head as he slung his bag over his shoulders and rocked on his heels, blocking out the feeling of awkwardness with the guy in front of him. Those blue eyes blinking gently as he took off his helmet to speak with him clearer. 

"Do you want me to pick you up, too?" The question presented to him seemed simple enough to answer quickly but Michael only bit his lip and glanced over his shoulder where his fellow prissy dancers were watching him have this exchange, his body tensing for a moment when he spotted Ashton making out with Calum against one of the trees in the front. He shrugged, "If it's alright with you." 

Secretly he just has no ride so he kind of just said yes so he's not stuck walking home alone. Although, he would rather a car take him home but whatever he'll suck it up. 

"You don't have to focus on what everyone is thinking about you right now, you do know that, right?" The blonde is either a fucking mind reader or Michael's very easy to read with his emotions because there is no way he would have noticed how he felt exactly like that in any other way. Michael's  hands gripped the strap of his dance bag tighter, staring at the sidewalk he stood on with a slow nod, "Yeah." 

It's just so difficult to try and hide their looks and shifty eyes that are drilled into the back of his head right now. They never see people like this. Sure, Ashton always has his boyfriend pick him up and drop him off in the morning and afternoon but they don't look as out of place as Luke and Michael. They're the most opposite of them all when it comes to the entire state of Sydney, Luke's a gang leader who carries a gun in his leather jacket while Michael is a prissy ballerina who wears skirts and panties. It's hard not to stare at them. 

"Ashton's watching you like a hawk, Calum, too." That was expected, if not routine at this point. They were probably the ballerina's biggest fear at this very moment because they're just waiting in anticipation to just see a hint of what happened yesterday happen today. They want to see a kiss or wink or at this point just see one of them smile to try and use it as proof that they're both secretly admiring one another. 

The pink in Michael's hair matched the pink on his cheeks, those blue eyes being the cause of his vermillion blush when he had just stared solely into Michael's amber ones as he spoke, "So," he drawled off, letting the other boy finish his sentence in his mind and get the hint to speed this up. 

Deep down, for some odd reason, Michael was kind of glad to hear that. It's kind of assuring to know that Luke thinks that it's just as weird to be doing what they're doing. The both of them were so hesitant with doing anything after the kiss last night. He was more than happy to see he's not the odd one out for once.

"God, why are they actually insane?" Michael's eyes rolled back in annoyance, the distant conversations still going on behind him as he met those crystalline eyes soon after, shuffling forward off the side walk to stand on the road right beside the motorcycle Luke was on. His head looking up at him expectantly with a laced in expression of anticipation the second he watched Michael lean in and place a rather chaste kiss on his cheek, moving away just as fast as he moved in. 

"Pick me up at noon." The ballerina called as he jogged to the entrance, a clearly surprised and still in shock blonde watching him intently with baby blue eyes while he sprinted up to the doors, he just barely felt that kiss. It was so quick he's not even sure his lips graced his cheekbone. After shaking his head to himself because of that damned boy, he put his helmet back on and shifted his gaze onto Calum, the maori smirking at him knowingly. He believes Luke's head over heels for Michael- it's just an infatuation. A very strong one if that. He's someone he's never been introduced to before, he's unlike any other boy in Sydney. 

Michael's hand was about to push the front door open to enter when he hears footsteps run closer and soon a strong hand is tugging him back just so he could get a very loud shout from Ashton in his ear blaring about what he just saw between him and Luke, the much stronger boy in the friend group squeezing Michael tight to release some of his pent up excitement. 

By the time he was set back down on the ground he huffed, "It was just a kiss."

"Just a-" Ashton paused to scoff, "Just a fucking kiss? That's what you saw? Because I saw Luke Hemmings, the most intimidating person in this town might I remind you, looking at you like Romeo looked at Juliet." He followed the pink haired boy into the dance academy, the two signing in at the front desk to show they were both present and turned to head up the many flights of stairs. 

Michael honestly didn't understand the ruckus of him doing anything with Luke, he could just breathe in his vicinity and ten people will claim they're meant to be, so in love, or some other cliché phrase that makes him want to scream into his pillow. 

"Is he a good kisser?" Those hazel eyes widened with fascination, the two boys pausing halfway through the stairwell, Michael's groan emphasizing his frustration about this situation as he slumped against the wall in exasperation, his head thrown back dramatically to further his point of not wanting to answer that. 

After a group of teenage girls walked past them in dance attire for some lower level ballet class, Michael met Ashton's eyes again- hoping he'd not want an answer since he's normal and saw that this obviously isn't fun for him but the raised eyebrows and subtle hand gesture of him rolling his wrist as if saying 'go on' meant otherwise. 

The pink haired boy sighed, "Yes, he's an amazing kisser."

"I knew it!" Those dimples practically deepened as Ashton smiled wider and triumphantly shook his best friend's shoulders, "My best friend, Michael Clifford, has a thing for Luke Hemmings!" 

"Oh, will you shut up." His embarrassment reached an all time high, both apples of his cheeks tinting red now as a couple dancers passing by turned their heads in confusion at the boy drawing all of the attention to him. Michael's arm only adjusting his grip on his bag and hurrying up the stairs in hopes of leaving Ashton to wail about his affairs in solitude. The dirty blonde only sprinting up the steps to catch up and somehow didn't trip in the process. 

"How many times?" The boy asked his best friend curiously, this time quieter in volume as he leaned in so their shoulders brushed. The new mood set and the odd question made Michael's eyebrows furrow, "What?" 

"How many times did you kiss before I ruined it?" Ashton may not be a genius but he's not an idiot either, he knows that he should have knocked and not just swing that door open haphazardly last night, for all he knows they could've been kissing for hours. 

"Do you really think I counted?" The ballerina scrunched his face in disbelief, not sure if Ashton's joking or if he's being serious until the blonde nodded as if it was obvious, stating a flat out, "Well, yeah, I count with Calum every time we make out, the record is thirty seven." He turned up onto the third floor and swung open the doors to the hallway, entering the humid hall that was busy with dancers scrambling to their assigned rooms, some staying in the hallway to chat before rehearsal. 

"I don't know, like, four?" Michael did know. He can't get those four kisses out of his mess of a mind right now, he can't get those blue eyes out of it either. He just can't stop thinking about Luke and his stupid face and those damn hands that roamed his body so easily. Shaking his head to get rid of his thoughts he started for his rehearsal room, "I need to go practice, Ash." His farewell being a very lazy wave as the dirty blonde only muttered something about running from the truth as he made his way across the hall to his own class.

Madame seemed delightful. If delightful meant raining on Michael's parade entirely by acting as if he's nonexistent in her class anymore. The boy lacing his ballet shoes on with a pout as Naomi tried her best to keep him entertained and spoke about her mess of a date last night with one of the guys who dances here- Julian or something like that, maybe Justin. Michael doesn't care that her date was awkward and the guy tried to hook up with her by the end of it despite her trying to leave his apartment ASAP. 

"I just give up with guys at this point, none of them are right for me." Her hands zipped her bag shut and pushed it off to the side for later, standing and practicing going on the very tip of her toes, "Enough about me, though." Her feet landed flat, "Tell me about the boy from yesterday." 

As the boy stood from the wooden floor he simultaneously groaned, entirely done with spilling more about Luke to anyone on the face of this Earth. His luck being in his favor as the accompaniment for their warm ups filled the room and gave him a reason to put off the topic of a certain blue eyed boy. His en pointe warm ups helped to stretch his legs and better his skills, his eyes watching Madame with a lost daze of confusion clouding around him. He wants to apologize but he knows it won't be enough. She'll need to be either knocked off her feet by his solo work improving or just be in a good mood and happily discard his faulty error. 

-

It seemed understandable for Madame to cancel Michael's solo rehearsal that day, telling him in front of the class spiked a new gossip that he's soon gonna get kicked from the prima ballerina status here. Though, no one really could see that happening it didn't stop him from freaking out that she might truly do that. 

So when he slouched out of the doors with a new burden on his shoulders and aching legs from perfecting literally all of his spots in their group routine, he was more than happy to see Ashton there. Sweaty and disheveled as he looked somewhat more tired than him, his water bottle getting chugged in between sentences as they strolled down the stairwell. 

"I keep trying my best but Adam keeps saying I need to be better if I expect a TABS scholarship." He hunched his shoulders and looked like he was about to cry and Michael was in the same boat as him. Adam, his instructor, had to be one of the most positive criticizers in the building, he makes people have faith and enjoy dancing as if this isn't most of their jobs or future jobs. Madame is the complete opposite, she yells at you until you cry, gives you thicker skin and tough bones the longer she teaches you, and she makes sure you know when you fail. She's the most negative person in the building for sure. 

"I can help. I have a spare thirty minutes tomorrow because Madame cancelled my private lesson, I can come into your room and help critique and make you better." The boys both turned into the front lobby, Ashton's smile suddenly back on his face, a little shy and his dimples didn't pop like they usually do but it was still a smile, "That'd be great, thanks." 

"Anytime." The boy grinned back, the door opening and letting them into the sunny day outside, clouds in the sky but they were all puffy and white. No breeze besides the cars driving by. He scanned the parking lot and the curb with no sign of Calum or Luke's vehicles. 

"I'll call Cal and see if he forgot." The dirty blonde speed dialed his boyfriend with a sigh, taking the time to sip some more of his water the second it went to voicemail his finger pressing the call back button, sighing impatiently as he checked if his car was coming down the street or not, while it rang incessantly he groaned, "I swear if he's sleeping I'm gonna rip off his balls." He set his bag on the ground so he doesn't have to hold it for no reason, Michael doing the same.

After another fail of getting him to answer Ashton's finger practically slammed down the call back button and clenched his jaw, the rings starting to taunt him as he waited and waited. Until finally, the sound of Calum's voice hit the speaker, "Hey, baby, now's not a good time." 

"Why? What's wrong?" Being the sensitive boy he is, he started to worry, "Baby, if you got yourself hurt-"

"No, no, I'm fine, just a bruise or two, Luke's the dumbass who's bleeding in my backseat." The sound of groaning and painful yells at Calum proved his statement to be true, the blonde curls getting Ashton's fingers running through the strands of hair to try and calm himself down, pulling the phone away from his ear and telling Michael what was wrong with a less calm voice, "Luke's hurt, Calum had to help him." 

For some odd reason that spiked a nerve in the boy's body, his eyes going wide like saucers and  gave constant hopeful stares at Ashton's features as he talked on the phone, trying to see if his face will give away any good news but right now he looked distraught and terrified and that's not a good sign. 

"What do you mean they saw Luke with Michael?" His name being brought up made the pink haired boy lean in so he could listen to what the maori was explaining on the other line but the names he spewed out made no sense and his explanation was choppy because he's trying to drive and talk while shouting directions for what Luke needs to do with his injuries. 

"Why do they care?" The dirty blonde must've understood Calum perfectly because he had no hesitation in his response to process what he said. The sound of a familiar range rover speeding up to the curb making Michael's heart rate pound feverishly in his chest, the shotgun being taken by Ashton as he immediately started to worry and check Calum for any major wounds. 

Michael swung open the back door with no idea what to expect, his bag getting tossed in front of his seat before he hopped inside and immediately felt dizzy at the sight of blood, so much blood. 

"Oh my God, I'm gonna throw up." The boy had to turn away from Luke, squeezing his eyes shut as he faced forward and shook his head, the blonde hissing out a very snappy, "Oh, it's so nice to see you too." He sarcastically replied and grit his teeth as his hand pressed down on his bicep that was losing blood every second. 

"Can you fucking drive before I bleed to death?" His foot managed to kick at the driver's seat, the maori who was getting examined by his boyfriend despite him yelling that he was fine quickly slammed onto the gas and started for the route home. 

After a good twenty seconds of the ballerina regaining his composure, he opened his eyes just in time to see Ashton twisting around the seat to see what happened and barely even flinched at the sight, his eyes going straight to the blue eyes that were full of unfallen tears. 

"Gun shot?" He whispered, the car taking a sharp left as Luke groaned at the sudden movement that made everything hurt again. Shaking his head he answered with a quiet, "They fucking stabbed me." The blonde let his jaw clench down as he attempted to dull out the pain but his adrenaline was very low at this point so the shock is starting to wear down to the point it's starting to hurt like a bitch. 

"Holy shit, is that a black eye?" Michael's voice joined the conversation as he realized the tint of a light green and purple hue forming slowly showing up around the eye that Michael couldn't see clearly. The blonde nodded, adjusting his position so his hand could reach into the pocket of the driver's seat, his wound open for the time being as he dug through it until he grabbed a wad of tissues and held those over his wound to catch some blood.

"Who fucked up Luke?" Those hazel eyes stared at the maori driving, Ashton's worried look multiplied by three would look just like Michael's, the dimpled boy waiting for an answer as Calum ran a stop sign in order to get home faster, "Bryan and Garret saw him driving home after he dropped off Michael and waited until he left to pick him up to pummel him in an alleyway." 

"The guys who you deal with? Why?" Ashton recognized the names as people they frequently give orders to and vice versa, his suspicions rising as the ballet boy in the backseat instantly felt sorry for causing it. Calum chewed on the inside of his cheek in favor of answering, his eyes glued to the road as he checked everything to make sure he wouldn't hit a pedestrian or take out a mailbox. 

"Cal?" The curly headed boy persisted, his body leaning in closer to irk an answer out of him as Luke's yelp of pain when they hit a bump filled the silence. The brunette huffed, "They want Michael." 

"Excuse me?" The boy mentioned instantly spoke up, his eyes wide as he felt his whole body go cold with fear, "I am not some sort of prize, I'm a human being." He shouted at the three boys in the car at the same time the other ballerina nodded in agreement. 

Luke spoke through gritted teeth, "They don't want you like that." His words getting interrupted so he could wince and cringe at the excruciating throbbing pain in his left arm. "They're just trying to get something I care about so I drop the fee they owe me." 

"Aw, you care about him?" The blonde in the front seat cooed at the two in the back, his words getting two dagger-filled stares in response as the ballerina only snapped, "Drop the fucking fee, I'm not gonna be a part of this."

He's not an idiot. He's smart enough to know that he's in no way, shape, or form fit to do anything that Luke or Calum do on the daily. He didn't ask for this, he just kissed him once or twice and all of a sudden he gets dragged into a world full of guns, blood, and leather jackets. 

"You don't have a choice." Calum said it solemnly, almost like he cared for once, his one hand left the wheel to gesture to the people in the car, "Do you think we chose to do this?" 

"Cal, don't-" Ashton softly piped up, facing the front of the car with his head down. 

"No, I'm gonna say it. We didn't ask to do this, Michael, some of us didn't grow up with stacks of cash and parents who spoil us with whatever we want." The maori's words made the pink haired boy clench his jaw and ball his fists at his sides, "So I'm fucking sorry your life isn't just peachy like it usually is because we are bad people who got you into bad things. Get over it. Or else reality's gonna fuck you over, trust me." Calum's car steered into the driveway of their house in all it's run down glory, there were less bikes than there were last time as Michael's lips stayed parted to speak up but clamped shut when Ashton asked him to grab Luke's jacket and carry it in with him. 

The leather was cold from lying on the floor of the car the whole time and he held that in one arm as the other brought his bag up and onto his shoulder to carry inside as well. 

It's only been two days and he's already getting dragged into the sort of thing his parents told him not to get into. 

The inside of the house was a lot quieter than yesterday, the lack of people meant less noise and conversation as a couple people (some are recognizable like Hunter and Christian) were trying to schedule who's doing what and where. The sound of the door opening made their eyes shift to Michael's petite body walking past them, their eyes searching him until they spotted the leather jacket in his hands. 

"How bad is he?" The boy who catcalled him the most, Hunter, his emotions completely different from yesterday, his head of black hair under a snapback as he clasped his hands at the table he was leaning against, the shy boy bit his lip, "Bad."

At his words the sound of the door clambering open and three familiar voices drowning one another out as Ashton and Calum tried to help Luke walk with his limping leg and hurt ribs. The numerous curses he winced out as they tried to keep him from bleeding on the floor as best as they could. 

"Takes some guts to do what you did, Hemmings." An older guy, maybe twenty five, twenty four, gruffly addressed the blonde when he passed them at the kitchen. "I would've ran the second I saw those bastards." He added on, the blonde only nodding to show he was listening before he headed up the stairs, Michael's head turned to gaze at the three ascending the staircase. He's not sure he can go watch them tend to his wounds. 

"You know he fought for you." Hunter nodded to the blonde yelling about how much it hurts to walk upstairs. A new feeling arousing in Michael's body, something in between guilt and surprise. He never knew that. "They were trying to find out more about you but he didn't say shit so they beat him up for it, some of the guys are out trying to find them and kill their sorry asses." His words were dark and made the pink haired boy nod slowly before he scurried down the hall to go help Luke since his groaning could be heard even from downstairs. 

"Michael, go into Calum's room and grab the first aid kit. It's on his dresser." Ashton instantly instructed him before the tip of his pinky toe was able to edge it's way past the door, his body pivoting on his heels and rushing into the maori's room, ignoring the fact it's much more presentable than Luke's with actual furniture and even a dresser for Ashton's things while he held the kit in his hands and rushed back into the room where Luke stayed on his back, lying on his mattress with his free arm resting on his forehead as the blood flow finally stopped being excessive and slowed drastically. 

"It needs stitches," He had cleaned the cut down, the close to three inch line of where he got stabbed made the boy woozy and lose his stability, leveling down onto his knees so he could look at Luke's face instead, the black eye already swelling as he heard Calum yell for an ice pack from one of the guys downstairs. 

The sound of metal clinking had the pink haired boy aware that they're actually going to stitch up Luke's arm. Not a doctor or nurse. Ashton Irwin is going to perform a medical task in the comfort of his own home. The boy wasn't phased as he readied the clean materials, taking the task seriously as he started to sew the skin together slowly and carefully. 

"Here." A new voice was suddenly right next to Michael's ear as an ice pack fell into his hand and had him jumping in place slightly. Dillon, the boy who got beat up yesterday, left just as fast as he had came, the pink haired boy moving Luke's arm from over his face slowly and as calmly as he could he placed the ice over his eye to hopefully reduce the swelling. 

"Shh," He soothed the blonde who kept on seething through gritted teeth, cursing and flinching at the boy stitching the highly sensitive wound. Michael's face serving as a distraction when he made Luke stare at him instead of the stitches going into his arm. The vibrant green in his eyes that held a few specks of silver and a barely noticeable ring of blue that was overpowered by the amber. All the eyelashes that curled up so effortlessly against his alabaster skin, the strands of pink fringe that were hanging over his face. Every single part of his features had Luke's attention. 

"Done." Ashton dropped the weird supplies into the kit to sterilize as he handed gauze to Michael, "Wrap it, not too tight." He ordered before sighing, gazing around the room in disbelief, "God, this place is a mess, Luke." He started to stand and clean, tossing every clothing item into the hamper and was kind enough to go find new sheets and extra pillows for him tonight with Calum by his side. 

They were alone. Again. But this time not on purpose, it was just them, Michael's hands carefully wrapping the bandages around the boy's stitches that covered up the wound, his eyes trailing over his shirt, the white cloth stained as he bit down on his lip. There's no way he'll ever not feel bad for this. If he hadn't gotten a ride from him this morning it wouldn't have happened. 

"You should stay here tonight." The sudden idea that ruined the silence made Michael's mind go blank, what about his apartment, his clothes, his shower? With none of his own things except dance equipment how is he supposed to live? Today has been a downpour of nothing but bad things that got worse as the day went by. 

"If they see where you live they'll try to get to you when I'm not there." His blue eyes casted down to his bandaged arm and murmured it to himself, "If you're here you have me and the guys to keep you safe." He met the green eyes studying his face closely, the ice pack covering his one eye as he waited for a response. He knows this isn't ideal but it's what he needs to do if he doesn't want to get slaughtered. 

"Do you have a shower?" The pink haired boy finally spoke, his body turning to grab his own bag that he threw on the floor when he first got in here. There has to be some sort of change of clothes in there. He is not sleeping in his sweaty ballet clothes. 

"Mhm, downstairs, the boys can point you to it." His weak hand pointed lazily to the door, the constant throb still coming from his arm to remind him he's still very much in pain. "Be careful, we probably don't have hot water left." With eight people in one house you want to be the first to shower, not the last. 

"Do you have any clothes I can borrow?" Scavenging through his bag the only not worn clothing is a pair of panties and he is not just walking around in that for now. His body rose from the floor clutching his underwear in one hand as another lazy hand waved the boy over to his dresser that was barely organized, random items in each drawer and some just had nothing in them. Pulling out a pair of Luke's sweatpants and a random band tee shirt he found in that same drawer he carefully folded his clothes before heading out of the room quietly. 

Downstairs was a little rowdier now that Ashton was there, his laugh filling the room as the boys made the same comments they made about Michael to his best friend who took them with a lot less seriousness. 

"Hood, we heard you like to be called daddy." Dillon's voice rang loudly as he seemed to be flipping through a bunch of menus to order food. The maori looking at the boy to blame who cheekily smiled, "I may have told Luke." 

"Oh, come on, daddy." Dillon teased. 

"Shut it." The brunette pointed at him with a deadly stare at the same time Michael nervously shuffled into the kitchen, having all eyes on him was stressful. Even though Ashton looked happy to see him, the rest were obviously showing pity to the boy who accidentally got Luke mauled by a gang. 

"Where's the shower?" His voice was as quiet as a mouse, eyeing the gun that they had lying on the table with wide eyes, the older guy he saw earlier started refilling it as he caught Michael's stare on it. The pistol held in his hand as if it was nothing, twirling it as he spoke, "Two doors down on your right. It's gonna be freezing, Ashton took too long with him and Calum's shower sex this morning." 

An obvious expression of disgust and fear showed on the ballerina's face, holding his clothes closer to his chest with his amber eyes landing upon the culprits, their smirks being exchanged before Ashton shrugged, "Morning sex happens. Sometimes in the shower."

"God, you two are gross." The boy said it with a lighthearted tone, even though it was true he wouldn't deny the fact that he should've seen that coming. His feet padding down the hall and into the very cramped bathroom, the water was cold and made him only speed up the entire routine of his shower, kind of bummed that he didn't have his favorite strawberry scented body wash or his extra soft soap that doesn't make his skin feel dry. 

After he got out of the shower and rid himself of most of the water droplets on his body, he pulled on his spare panties (they were lace and white) and put on the clothes he stole from Luke, the shirt practically fit, the only problem being the shoulder width made one sleeve constantly fall down his arm, his sweatpants making his freezing body warm up instantly, his hands collecting his dirty clothes and leaving the bathroom. 

"Are you staying here?" The question thrown at him came from his left down the hall, his head twisting to see the familiar face of Calum, his eyes showing some sort of concern as if he could detect the aura of foreignness that clouded around him. He's not used to living like this- let alone with nine other people in the house.

"Yeah, if it's alright with you." He had to make sure he wasn't being a burden. It must be hard enough to keep track of the normal amount of people in this house, adding one on is probably taking it too far. 

"You can stay, as long as you don't bad mouth us anymore." His deal was valid, a slow nod coming from Michael as he thought it was fair, peering around the halls and figured he shouldn't keep Luke waiting any longer, his heels pivoting so his back faced the maori and he could finally trek back up the stairs and down to the blonde's room, the door shut as he knocked softly against the white door and waited for a response. He's smarter than Ashton, he knows not to barge in. 

"Come in." The voice wasn't recognized as Luke, the tone was so much raspier and held this gruffness to it that made the ballerina hesitate to enter, sucking in a sharp breath and creaking open the door as fast as he could without looking like he was rushing, the room now occupied with Luke and some other guy from his gang. The guy had to be twenty- if not twenty one- his stubble was well taken care of on his tan skin, the dark brown in his eyes showing so many levels of austerity that flashed at him instantly. The guy's hair was cut into a clean quiff, black strands of hair perfectly styled with gel as he quirked an eyebrow to stare over his shoulder at him. 

"Luke needs rest. Try not to wake him up." His body stood from the ground, bulky black boots on his feet that clanked with each step made Michael only cower, standing at the doorframe with a fear that screamed behind his eyes, the guy stalking towards him only stopped with an inch or two to spare between them. His musk of cologne wafting around Michael, the man's leather jacket old and faded unlike the others that he's seen. 

"Okay." The pink haired boy whispered it softly, barely blinking as the man brushed past his shoulder and left down the hall, venturing back into his own room that was two doors down. A passed out blonde on the mattress across the room held all of his attention, the bandage around his arm only had a few drops of where the blood soaked through, his shirt had been thrown off now, revealing the bandages he had from helping Dillon, his whole body looked like a mess and if Calum makes him do anything tomorrow he'll throw a fit. 

He can barely stand without wincing if he's stuck doing deals or just driving somewhere it'll just hurt that much more. His whole torso was bandaged and the ice pack was removed off his eye to show the much more prominent blue and purple ring that splotched around it. That'll only get worse for the next few days. 

Trying not to feel any more guilt than he already has in him, Michael grabbed his phone from his bag, plugged it into his charger, and laid down beside Luke on the practically nonexistent bed. It wasn't even close to comfy and Michael's back hurt to the point he figured fuck it, and tried to take a nap. It's only two in the afternoon but today was already so much he shut his eyes and dreamed of his bed at his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so incredibly happy to see everyone's responses to this book and i can't wait to hear what you guys think of this chapter!! feel free to talk to me about this book or follow me on my tumblr malumaffairs!!


	4. that's the spirit

Waking up in a room that he forgot ever existed was the first sign of confusion, Michael's eyes fluttering open to see the grimy room that was falling apart at the seams and slowly let it sink in that it was not a nightmare and he really is at Luke's place because some gang is trying to get to him. His body went to sit up only to feel a weight over his chest and snapped his head down to look at the arm secured around his waist that is not budging anytime soon.

As if matters could not get any worse, the blonde was practically spooning him. He was warm and cuddly but Michael really doesn't know how to feel about it. Any of his friends can walk in and see them like this. It's bad enough people like Ashton, Calum, and Naomi know that there's some form of chemistry between them and they never shut up about it either. If everyone starts being like them he'll flip.

His phone showed that three hours had passed since he fell asleep, and the floor below them had a low buzz of conversation heard through the flooring. His hand tore the arm off of his waist so he could stand from the floor and stretch, his ankles were killing him and he needs to put ice on them tonight to keep them nice and in shape for a dancer's body.

The sweatpants he wore were too big for his liking, tugging them down his legs so the shirt practically acted as a cover up, falling to just above mid-thigh.

Shuffling came to his right and he whipped his head around to see Luke waking up, his crystalline eyes fluttering open as he took in the sight of Michael in his clothes. The blurry vision from just now coming out of his sleep getting blinked away to focus on the small boy practically drowning in his clothes. His lips curved up into a smile, "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." His baby blue's trailed from Michael's ankles up to his knees and then to the peek of lace he saw from underneath his shirt.

"You're awake." The boy stated it as if it wasn't obvious before, his head giving a curt nod in reply as he studied the way that Michael played with the hem of the shirt he wore, making the fabric flutter and show some more of the panties, his hands soon clutching the smooth shirt to pull it down once he noticed what the punk was staring at.

"White lace?" The blonde quipped matter-of-factly, his words coming out in a rasp from just waking up. Michael's breath hitched as he froze where he stood, the muffled conversations going on outside this room drowning out to blank space. His hands clutching the shirt for dear life moved, riding up the shirt far enough so he could show his panties to Luke. His head turning to the floor as he heard the blonde curse under his breath. Chills crawled quickly up his spine as he felt those deep blue eyes burn into his body. Every second his eyes stayed casted to the ground he could feel Luke stare even more longingly at him. Moving his head so he could finally glance to the side and partially over his shoulder to see the blonde's whole face contorted into a ravenously lust-filled desire that only grew with each passing second.

His knuckles were a bright, burning white from how tight he grasped the fabric all bunched up in his hands. A low buzz of life coming from downstairs as they were all so unaware of what was happening in the room above them. His amber eyes gazed down at Luke only to blush, timidly looking away for some form of a distraction to give him a valid reason to hide so quickly.

"Fuck, you're beautiful." The words came off his lips like silk and the fact he was so shy about it seemed almost uncalled for or unnecessary since he was almost ethereal. Practically glowing with his ambiance that drew Luke in deeper and deeper until his eyes were drowning from the sight.

"Can you. . ." The blonde's voice was hinting at something, his eyes drinking in the sight with hooded eyes. Soft green ones turning back to look at Luke and expect to hear him say something about stopping but he was shocked nonetheless when the boy motioned for him to come closer. His hand waving him over as the boy instantly followed his instructions, unsure of where he was going to take this.

"Lay on my lap." He didn't ask him, he demanded him to do it. Those amber eyes instantly shooting up in fear, "You're hurt."

Scanning his body for the numerous wounds made Michael find so many problems with this. His shirtless chest was wrapped in so many places and the gauze on his arm bled through in his sleep. The injuries are endless and he can't risk hurting him any more by opening the cuts.

"I think they have dinner ready, too." He added on hastily, rushing to tug his leggings from this morning back onto his legs, the blonde left gaping at him in a melodramatic shock, the faint smell of pizza hitting their senses as Michael went for his phone and then headed for the door, "Do you want anything?"

The way he had his back to the blonde gave the punk an advantage, his blue eyes rolling back as he relaxed in his bed, "You to stop acting like a fucking tease."

He wasn't wrong. Michael's aware of what he's doing but he's just trying with all his might to not just do what his heart is attempting to make happen. A dancer with a relationship on their mind is not what Madame wants in her studio. Naomi's already crossing a fine line of having her silly affairs with one of the guys in Ashton's class. If Madame finds out she'll be tossed to the side like she didn't even matter, same with Michael. Sometimes he thinks that's why Ashton's not a prima, because he's known for his infamous boyfriend who's nothing but bad news.

"Two pieces of pepperoni." Luke added on weakly, his words finally bringing him to swing open the door and leave him with his thoughts, the soft shuffling of his sock clad feet hitting the creaking wood panels, the full house loud and riled up as he greets Ashton downstairs where he was attempting to pass out the correct plates to whoever needed it. Which seemed pretty useless since they should just get their own food but here the curly haired boy is, having to serve seven guys each with their rather specific order.

"Hey, you're up! Hand this to Christian for me, please. Red chair." Immediately a paper plate with three slices of some sort of meat lover's pizza that smelt like pure grease was handed to him as the description made the ballerina peek into the connected living room where the man mentioned sat yelling at the tv while a soccer game was playing.

"O-Okay." He stammered nervously, the intimidating figure in the next room causing him to quicken his pace and worm his way past the couch, a few other chairs, and the coffee table before he let the plate get handed to Christian with as much of a smile he could muster, "H-Here."

Taking the plate with a very unamused face, Christian barely spared a glance at him from the television yet when his eyes finally looked at the ballerina he smirked, "Luke's shirt, how cute." His teasing got cut short when one team stole the ball from the player who could've scored and made the man stand from his seat and curse at the screen. Everyone else in the room either on the edge of their seats watching in a silent anticipation or doing the same as him and yelling.

"Calum, baby, what do you want to drink?" A shout came from the kitchen, the brunette being in the middle of two guys on the couch, his eyes glued onto the tv as he seemed to be one of the silent watchers, his body leaning off the couch at this point as he gave a shout back, "Beer, I wanna get drunk so I don't remember this shitty excuse of a soccer team."

"Good for you, baby." Ashton's monotone response made the pink haired boy chuckle when he advanced back into the kitchen where the curly haired boy, by the looks of it, was completely stressing over the entirety of this dinner, his head in his hands as he worked his way through deep breaths.

"Do you need more help?" His hand went to pat his best friend on the back for comfort but he only shot up and whispered out, "Adam wants me to break up with Calum." His phone was unlocked on the table, it's screen lit up with a text from Ashton's instructor, it's lengthy paragraph just proving how serious he was compared to the usual banter they exchange.

"Don't tell me you actually might." Michael's not an idiot, he knows that Ashton's way too deeply in love with Calum to even hesitate to stay with him but the look on his face said otherwise.

"He wants to take me out of his classes, apparently my boyfriend is an unhealthy distraction from my career." Adam's not a bad coach, he's the kindest one there and it's very rare he actually gets strict with someone and disciplines them so why with Ashton? He's not bad at his dancing, he's just not pushing himself to be better. He's not striving day after day to perfect his work. This isn't a hobby anymore it's his job and he's slacking.

"Just lie." The ballet boy made it up from the top of his head, "Tell him you two ended things but still date in private. I'll help you after class whenever I can and we'll better your work and once he gives you the OK that you proved him you're back in tip top shape, reveal the fact you never broke up with Calum and prove to him you can be a great dancer with a relationship on the side."

His rambling made the boy pause to process it, his head giving a few short nods afterwords, "That could work." Those hazel eyes stared at the screen then over to the maori who was still waiting for a drink, "I can't tell him I'm doing this, he'll think I'm more serious about dance than I am with him."

"Are you?" Michael whispered, his words laced with concern because if someone wants to be the best of the best in ballet you can't just see it as a fun pastime or hobby. It's commitment and you have to know it's what you want, Michael's one hundred percent devoted to his dancing and that shows through his work. The small hesitation in Ashton's voice answered the question without him actually saying it, "I don't know." He shrugged.

"You don't know if you want to dance?" He stayed low, sure not to let anyone in the next room hear him.

"Not if Calum's out of the picture." The dirty blonde seethed back, growing irritated as his teeth grit, he grabs the beer on the counter and left to give it to his boyfriend, soon joining him on the couch. The ballerina watching from the kitchen with a contorted face of confusion, his mind starting to swarm with strewn about thoughts. He never thought Ashton would lose his passion over some silly boyfriend.

"What's got your panties in a bunch?"

"Jesus Christ, why are you not in bed?" Michael snapped out of his mind to shoot daggers at Luke, the punk only laughed over at the boy and tossed his now melted ice pack onto the counter for an explanation, his second move being to steal the pizza box and take the slices he wanted.

"I'm fine, honestly, just hurts if I move it too fast." The blonde was in somewhat presentable clothes, his lower half clad in skinny jeans as he threw on a grey tee and his leather jacket. His mouth chewing a bite of the pizza he took and waited for some form of answer to the question asked.

Michael's hands reached for the handle on the fridge, opening it and taking one of the waters from it's shelf to sip it. He's not going to tell the blonde about his stupid ballerina issues, he can handle the drama himself.

His eyes roamed the rest of the fridge to see if anything had some form of healthiness to it but came up short as he realized that today's gonna become his unplanned cheat day and took a slice of pizza from it's box.

"Hemmings is awake!" The man who had been in the blonde's room checking his injuries while he slept announced it like it was a moment to victoriously celebrate, the blonde smirking as he responded with a rather cocky, "Wouldn't miss my team getting crushed to smithereens, Jack." The name made Michael now give him a label, his mind still lost on who most of the people in this house were but he's almost there with knowing who's who.

"That's the spirit." Jack smirked before he focused back onto the television, the blonde ambling his way into the living room as he held his slice of folded pizza with one hand and ditched a plate, Michael following suit with his slice on an actual plate because he's not a slob.

Relocating meant finding somewhere new to sit and if the living room wasn't cramped enough already, there was only one chair left and Luke took it with a rather obvious smirk, his baby blue eyes raking over Michael's figure before he motioned to his lap and pat his thigh, wordlessly telling him he can sit on him for now.

"It's either me or the floor." His eyebrows raised, giving the option to the ballerina who was nearly ready to turn around and just go back in the kitchen but he only puffed out a breath and chose Luke's lap after a very short debate in his head. Placing himself on the blonde's lap he prepared himself for some teasing but luckily no one spared more than a glance away from the screen, except Ashton who eyed the two boys like it was his business although it definitely wasn't.

"Chew with your mouth shut." Michael instructed, scolding the punk who was obnoxiously chewing his pizza like it's his last meal on Earth. To make the pink haired boy even more frustrated Luke stuck out his tongue like a child and showed his chewed up food to the ballerina who scrunched his nose in disgust and shut the blonde's mouth for him by tapping his chin.

"What team are you rooting for?" Attempting to know more about what was happening on the screen seemed like the right thing to do, Luke's response being a curt, "Liverpool." Which made the ballerina only furrow his eyebrows, unsure which team that is. The punk further explained his team by going, "The ones in red." Which had Michael oohing and nodding.

After managing to eat half the slice on his plate the game finished, a rather unlucky game of 4-0 with the boys all on the couch slumping as everyone else followed suit. Luke's arms now holding Michael closer to his chest by the waist, all of the guys making kissing noises and a couple wolf whistling at them every time they'd whisper to each other. The teasing created this blush on the ballerina's cheeks that Luke loved. His meek shyness made him only want to kiss him that much more.

"Just make out already." Dillon was across the room in his own chair, both feet kicked up onto the table as he threw m&m's into his mouth every once in awhile, the guys around him all chuckling and joking as Ashton piped a very matter-of-factly remark of his own, "They already did."

All the eyes were turning away from the curly lad to wait for a response from either of the two that were put on the spot, their lips both parted in shock meanwhile Ashton leaned back against Calum to show he was done, checkmate.

The feeling of Luke's eyes studying Michael's face was prominent, as usual, but this time with some form of worried undertone hidden underneath the crystalline color, the amber in the ballerina's eyes only shooting daggers at Ashton before facing Luke and slotting their lips together instantly feeling his stomach flip a million miles an hour as he almost forgot how good if feels to kiss him. The blonde kissed back just as fast and even rougher than the pink haired ballerina with his good arm locking around the boy's back so he could pull him closer, the room whistling and hollering as they got heated and Michael even sneaked a little bit of tongue in there before pulling away with a smirk.

By the time they all settled, they both had noticed the little features that changed in each other's faces. Michael's lips were redder and his eyes were darker, Luke had been the one blushing now and his breathing was hitched. That's all that they needed as proof that they're starting to develop something. Maybe nothing too big but there's still something.

They all laughed for awhile, Calum smoked a few cigarettes as Michael scrunched his nose every time the smoke wafted towards him, the sound of a phone ringing making everyone scramble to see if it's their phone that's going off.

Christian's phone was brought up to his ear as they all settled down, the boy talking to some form of a client as he looked at Calum as he spoke, "Yeah, he's here." The room became tense as the brunette scrunched his eyebrows and got up from the couch, holding his hand out for the phone since he saw where this was going and got a bit of a sad look from the boy passing him the phone.

"Hello." The maori excused himself into the hallway despite the fact they could all hear him faintly if they focused hard enough. After three minutes he strode his way back into the room, "That was Justin, he needs back up, Dillon, Luke, stay here. Jack, Christian, David, Hunter, and Sam come with me." He addressed the five non-hurt guys in a stern voice. His arms shrugging on his jacket as those called for stood and some pulled guns from their own leather jackets.

Luke groaned, his head thrown back as he exclaimed an aggravated, "Why can't I come?" Those words making the people in the room laugh as everyone knew the answer, even he knew the answer. "I wanna actually win a fight again, and not leave with severe injuries. Justin's got a good crew, you guys can help cover me while I blow a couple brains out with some bullets."

"You're hurt, Luke. H-U-R-T, hurt, you can't do much except rest until the wound heals." Jack was reloading his own pistol while he spoke in a hurry, Dillon, the newbie, sighing as he crossed his arms, "Can't do shit 'cause some bastards mauled me. Unfair."

Ashton was kissing Calum before he goes and exchanging I love you's and see you soon's as the rest of them were filing out the door, some already getting on their bike as Ashton pouted seeing him go. Worried sick if he'll be okay or not by the end of the night. The four boys left in the dust all flipping through channels on the tv while the faint nose of engines revving faded off into the distance.

"He'll be back in one hour, two at the most, don't worry." Luke assured the boyfriend scared out of his mind, looking back at Michael sadly, "Getting called in from allies to fight is rare, we always jump at the opportunity but it is dangerous." They have allies but they have many more rivals, that's why they're always coming home bleeding and injured. Most of the time they just run from fights, especially if you're unarmed. But Luke never runs, he stays no matter what the case is. Fights are exciting- threatening, but so exciting and it gives him an adrenaline rush when he leaves knowing he won.

Those gentle hazel eyes watched the two from across the room, "Dancer's are off limits in Madame's class." He snapped, eyes casted down onto the floor as he bawled his hands into fists trying not to yell, "Michael's gonna hide you from the whole town if you two become a thing, otherwise he gets kicked off the prima's and he'd rather dance than date someone."

"You'd rather suck your boyfriend's dick than actually improve your work." Michael stood from Luke's lap to accuse the curly haired boy across the living room, placing both hands on his hips as they yelled, their eyes fighting silently as their tongues shot bullets in the form of syllables that stung so bad but the adrenaline blocked the pain.

"At least I get dick unlike you, you prude!" Ashton's voice shook, the two not involved in this conversation sharing looks of surprise from separate ends of the room, the ballerinas both fighting verbally other than physically which is rare in this house.

"Sex isn't gonna pay the bills for your apartment, Ashton." His finger pointed at his own chest while he finished his remark with a loud, "My dancing can do that, sucking someone's dick can't."

"You're so far up Madame's ass, Michael, it's kind of sad- scratch that, not kind of, it's actually sad." The boy stomped his way closer until the coffee table was the only thing stuck between them, their bodies on opposite ends while the boys on the outskirts of this watched in shock as Michael finally blew his top.

"Calum's only with you for sex!"

His words made the room fall silent, the tension building as Ashton went quiet, fiery eyes boring into his friend who's evidently not acting like a real friend right now. He's being immature and yeah, he is too but now he's gone too far. He struck a nerve that shouldn't've been struck. All of the air around him turning cold as he clenched his jaw and fought back the urge to cry.

"Shit." Dillon's voice muttered lowly, letting the scene unravel further with intrigued eyes.

"You don't know that." He stated after taking a slow, deep breath. His hands now getting fumbled together anxiously, those golden curls falling as he let his head dip down and stare at the floor to hide the fact he was beginning to tear up, "He loves me."

"He loves your body, Ashton." His hands went to his fringe and tugged stressfully at the dyed strands, "There's a fucking difference."

"You're just jealous that I'm in a relationship." The dirty blonde tried to switch subjects his voice coming back along with his confidence, the boy's head peering up as he bawled his fists at his sides, sticking his chin up while he added on a snarky, "I even tried to be nice and set you up with Luke." A hand flung out to gesture to the punk hoping not to bring himself into this, his own hands going up in mock defense as he rushed out a quick, "I'm not a part of this."

"Oh, yeah, 'cause Luke's so good for me, huh?" The sarcasm was only making Ashton angrier, the pink haired boy across from him holding his arms out to point out their current situation right now, "Look where that got me! Surrounded by a bunch of lowlife bastards who can't afford real jobs to the point they deal drugs and kill people for a living."

Luke's eyebrows scrunched together angrily, offense being taken while his jaw clenched making his whole face go stiff to hold back his irritations. Out of all the things he could've said he pins this entire situation on him.

"You're the reason this happened." The blonde voiced his opinion, accusing a very taken back Michael with a finger pointing his way, "Garret and Bryan want you, not me. If it weren't for you I wouldn't have stitches in my damn arm."

"If you just lower that fee they owe you, we wouldn't have this problem." Michael's eyes stared back at the blonde with sharp green irises. A noticeable huff of air releasing in the punk's chest as he held onto the arms of the chair he sat in tighter to resist the urge to physically end his fights like he's used to.

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" The pink haired boy gave a mock of a laugh, so done with this to the point it's stupidly funny. They shouldn't argue, they should be doing something to stop this instead however here they are, bickering like kids.

Luke stood from the chair, his body towering above the ballerina that didn't even flinch, his chin still held high as he watched the punk grit his teeth, "I need the full twenty grand. No more, no less. If they catch a pretty little thing like you it isn't gonna make a difference." At his words Michael lost a bit of his arrogance, once sharp features falling as he grew closer to a pout than a scowl. "If they get you and beat you to the point you're just asking for death because it hurts so much that you want it to stop, I'm not even gonna give a shit, sweetheart."

The sound of Dillon laughing under his breath made them all turn, his head thrown back as he held his stomach and gave a few silent laughs with his eyes shutting, the completely unhumorous conversation making the boys all the more curious. His body scrambled up from the floor because he started to tear up from laughing so hard, his feet shuffling up as he gave the blonde a pat to his back as praise.

"You were gonna shoot him." Dillon finally cracked out his reasoning through his laughs, a hand pointing to the way Luke's hand was going to his jacket, stuck frozen in place when he realized he went for the gun without thinking. It was a force of habit and for some odd reason he barely knew he was doing it, his eyes going to his positioned arm as Dillon moved the inside of his jacket into view so they could all see the pistol tucked inside, centimeters from his fingertips.

"You were actually gonna shoot Michael." His hand slipped into the pocket to grab the gun but got pushed back by a very tense Luke, his hand shoving Dillon back by the chest. Muttering a short, "Shut up." To make him stop as the shorter of the two stifled his laughs as best as he could manage and left the room mumbling something about his plans for tonight as he made his way up the stairs.

The first to speak was Michael, his lips sputtering out a very low, "You're unbelievable." In a putrid tone that showed his disgust, his head nodding down to the boy's jacket before he took a step back to scoff, "I can't believe you went to shoot me."

"It's a force of habit." The blonde rolled his eyes as if this wasn't a big deal despite the fact it most definitely is. He almost killed Michael. That easily. Without thinking. How is he looking past this as if it's a small mistake and not a huge one?

"You have a habit of shooting people when you're mad at them?" An even louder scoff and a more dramatic eye roll coming from the ballerina who began turning around to head out of the room but came face to face with Ashton who was still not happy about their conversation minutes ago, his gaze almost longing for him to apologize or say something that isn't offensive but he only got a bat of the boy's eyelashes before he left the room.

-

When it was close to eleven at night, a total of eighty three minutes after the boys had left, Michael was lying in Luke's bed texting his mum that she doesn't need to give him a ride to dance tomorrow and she sent a smiley face in response that had him shutting off his phone for the night.

All too soon, Luke burst through the door, he had been doing well with the whole acting like the fight didn't happen because he immediately shut the door and rushed to the bed. His jacket thrown somewhere on the ground as he rushed to the mattress and instantly laid on the side not accompanied by Michael.

"Calum and Ashton are fighting." He explained after a short moment of them blankly staring at the ceiling in silence.

As if proof was needed the sound of something breaking echoed from downstairs, the ballerina flinching at the noise as he heard yelling followed by feet stomping up the stairs louder and louder.

"Oh." He managed to whisper, his eyes relentlessly falling shut as he tried to block out the sound of them arguing in the hallway. Plenty of curse words thrown in their sentences as a raspy tired voice growled something about how Ashton's being paranoid and needs to calm down only for the dirty blonde to yell about how he needs him to say he loves him and to actually mean it.

There was silence. The deafening kind. The house entirely too still as Michael probably bet all the other guys were listening to this conversation from different rooms. It's hard not to listen, they're causing a scene.

"I love you." It was forced, almost in a tone of disgust and anyone could tell by the way he half-assed his tone and mumbled it, the sound of a sharp slap being heard as the two boys eavesdropping tensed when they heard a growled, "Oh, you're gonna get it." That sent Michael's mouth opening to protest as Luke was quick to place a hand over his mouth to stop him. If Hood knows everyone's listening he'll be sure to send punches to all of them.

A thud was heard and soon there was a broken sob and Ashton's piercing the house with a deafening, "I hate you!" Which made Luke's eyes widen and Michael only writhe to get up and go check if his friend is okay because they may be mad at each other but none of this is safe for him and he needs Ashton to get out of this before it's too late though, it already seemed like it is.

"You can't even say you love me." His voice added on, his words connecting from his sobs that were escaping him in hiccups and chattering teeth, "Say it!" Another stomp of his foot made the wooden floor thump from his actions, "I said say it, you asshole!"

Michael could feel his eyes prick with unwanted tears, the fear rising as he shook his head to try not to cry. It's so hard to when he could be preventing this, his nose releasing strong breaths to try and calm himself down but he only heard another thud that led to Luke's door shaking which meant one of them just got pushed against it and they don't know who it was.

"You don't call me any of that, you got it? I'm the one keeping a roof under your damn head because your parents won't pay for your shit anymore. I spoil you so fucking much that anyone would be happy to be with me so be lucky I chose you, you ungrateful bitch." There was a long pause, Michael's eyes that stung from holding back so many tears finally blinked so they'd fall, having to bury his face into one of the pillows so he could sniffle and let his tears sink into the pillow. The hand over his mouth moving as Luke adjusted his position so he could comfort him with a hand on his back.

"You understand me?" Calum's muffled voice was somehow crystal clear to their ears as a low hum of a yes came in response before the sound of a door slamming was heard and feet shuffling down the hallway faded off until they both were no longer there.

"He hit him." Michael whispered it in disbelief, "They hit each other." He realized even more of what just happened before his heart anchored down to his feet and his stomach churned uncomfortably. "Was it my fault?" He felt nauseous, like he could throw up any second as his tears seemed to roll at a faster pace, "I told him Calum doesn't love him, he probably brought it up and now it's all my fault."

There was no response immediately from Luke, the blonde back to facing the ceiling in a helpless gaze that almost answered the question Michael asked in itself. The single expression gave away so much.

"I've never heard them fight." His lips parted and his eyes squinted in thought, "I thought their relationship was so perfect that fighting just wasn't something they'd do." He was in so much disbelief, that he almost felt like he was lied to as well, his eyes blinking up to the ceiling for a moment until he actually casted his stare onto the very worried Michael.

"Do you think that was the first time they ever hit each other? I've never seen bruises on Ash." He couldn't recall ever seeing marks on his best friend in the past, at least not ones that weren't from falling in dance or him just being clumsy in public with him.

"I. . ." The blonde paused, trying to think of any times he's seen Calum even act close to mad at Ashton but he could only recall the scene that happened minutes ago, nothing else. "I don't know." He whispered back.

Michael finally stopped crying after three more minutes, his body inching closer to Luke's for some form of comfort, the blonde luckily allowing it and even placed an arm around his waist. They were both quiet, just listening to one another breathe in the dark room, the dancer was worried about tomorrow. Seeing his friend who he's fighting with but is secretly worried about, trying to win back Madame's trust, and he's just so scared of leaving this house now because people are trying to get to him.

"I'm sorry I called you a lowlife bastard." His words filled in the awkward silence, his apologetic tone laced with timidity, the tufts of pink hair turning from where he rested on Luke's chest, gazed up at him sympathetically. "You're actually not that bad."

He had felt the urge to say he was sorry after realizing he should've just apologized to Ashton before the fight even went down between him and his boyfriend. He could've prevented that from ever happening if he wasn't so conceited.

"I deserved it, I was being a dick."

"You were." The ballerina laughed under his breath in soft snorts and giggles. A strong hand leaving the small of his back to run through his fringe. Luke's smile seen even in the dark, those bright eyes full of some feeling calmness when he soon laughed with the boy too,"You should get some rest, you need to dance tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," The sadness soon dulled over Michael, his head nodding before he cuddled closer to Luke, "I'll try not to wake you up from my alarm. You should rest all day."

Something inside of the blonde lightened up hearing someone care about his health for more than the fact he needs to get back to work. He had never found someone who gave so much care towards him without asking, those green eyes captured his focus, reminiscing in the shades within them that he knew so well that even though Michael's eyes were fluttered shut he saw those beautiful colors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm incredibly happy seeing everyone enjoy this story and please don;t forget to leave kudos or a comment and talk to me about muke or anything really on my tumblr (malumaffairs)


	5. i didn't run

Michael had gotten dressed entirely too fast in the morning his rapid heart beating out of his chest at the thought of someone from the gang seeing him in his pink frilly tutu and leotard with white tights and his vans on his feet for now. The guys in this house don't see Ashton in this kind of attire for dance, he wears trackies and any plain shirt, all they'd end up doing is judge him. 

He feels his lungs cease work when he pads his way down the stairs and into the kitchen for some breakfast, almost choking on air when he sees Calum and Ashton both acting entirely too distant, he had almost forgotten about last night but the way they were right now made it all come flooding back. 

They were both across the room, Calum's arms crossed over his chest while Ashton cupped a mug steaming with fresh coffee, the much less excited look on his face when he saw Michael giving enough of a sign for him not to ask about their distance. He already knew, but he can't say that just yet. 

"Good morning." He settled with a greeting, his eyes staring at the floor in fear he'd crack and start crying or stammering about how he heard all of it if he looks at either of them. His hands scrambled through the cupboards for food and settled on a protein bar that tasted like bark and twigs but he doesn't care at this point. 

"Morning." Ashton replied softly, muttering it below his breath in a sigh, drumming his fingers against the glass mug as he observed his best friend's outfit, the happiness of it almost lifting his mood. 

The maori was silent, his dark eyes and ebony bangs that curled and covered his eyebrows that were knit together in a pissed off manner nearly had the two boys scared. Ashton barely even sparing a glance at the boy when he dumped more than half of his coffee into the sink and left for the car without a word. The door's faint squeak as it shut giving Michael the chance to actually speak to Calum. 

His hands crumpled up the protein bar wrapper and tossed it into the garbage bin, "If you hurt my best friend ever again I'll be sure to keep him away from your filthy hands for good." The boy was petite, his body adorned in a damn tutu, but his words made the brunette across the room go stiff with fear and nearly dropped his jaw in shock but kept his cover stern. 

The pink haired boy was picking up his duffel bag that he brought down with him and stormed his way out of the house in defense to go see his best friend and just apologize once and for all. The car was already running and he had changed positions so now Ashton was sitting in the back with a mildly apprehensive Michael. Calum was still inside. 

When he clicked open the car door he instantly saw the dirty blonde with the sleeves to his shirt rolled down to observe his shoulders. His head snapping up in fear when he saw Michael and instantly went to tug it back up but the boy stopped him. His bag thrown into the car as he rushed into the middle seat, not even choosing the normal choice as he made sure to be extra close and comforting for his friend. The dirty blonde fought back the urge to cry when Michael checks his shoulders and studies the obvious marks left on him. 

"He hit me, Michael." The aussie shook his head, blinking back the tears in his eyes when he saw Calum just opening the door to the house, his eyes dead set on the pink haired boy who quickly spun around to face his best friend, hiding his black and blue marks as he nodded, "I know. I was awake, I'm so sorry I should've helped stop him." 

He's well aware he shouldn't be telling anyone he heard the fight happen because if he heard it that means anyone in the house could've and that makes Calum look bad but he is bad. He hit Ashton. More than once. They both abused each other last night and neither of them are trying to resolve it unless they just resolve things with silence. 

"I hit him first but I wasn't thinking." Both pairs of green eyes shared empathetic looks as they heard the door open, a breeze let into the car as Calum sat in the driver's seat, his hands slamming his door shut as he nearly shoved the key into the ignition and started the engine to the range rover. Music filling in the silence once encasing them, a low tune of rock music making the three boys all pause as if that gave them the OK to speak. 

The maori only went against that and quickly backed out of the driveway, his tired body slumped in the chair as the obvious bags under his eyes displayed how well his sleep must've been. Ashton's back was killing him, he didn't want to sleep in the same bed as Calum so he had claimed the couch and now regrets it with a passion. 

There was little to any expressive emotion on Michael's face besides desperation. He just needed to fix this, he was the root of the problem more or less, it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Because of his stupid blabber mouth and his jealousy he flipped on their relationship. 

Having his own battle in his mind he barely even processed what was happening in the real world until the faint tug of his arm brought him back into reality, the ballerina snapping his head up to try and pinpoint what he's supposed to be doing. The car had stopped, the door open as Ashton waited rather impatiently, holding his own bag as well as his friend's. "Come on." He wanted to leave before Calum pulls any apology bullshit for last night. 

Sliding out of the car and onto the pavement alongside the dance studio, his hands brushed and frilled the back of his skirt out so it wasn't uneven.

"Are you picking us up?" Ashton finally said something to Calum, of course it wasn't ideal but the maori was almost on the verge of insanity from the silent treatment. His lips pursing in thought as he gave a shrug, talking through the rolled down car window, "I'll try to." He hesitated for another moment. "Listen, babe, about yesterday-"

"Don't call me that." The dirty blonde gave a look of pure rancor that shot daggers into Calum's features, the burning fire behind those hazel eyes only striking the brunette powerful enough that he had given up just from those four simple words. His head turning to face the wheel as he mumbled an okay and let the two leave.

"Why didn't you talk it out?" The boy gave a look of disbelief, he understands the reasoning behind being mad but it's far different from being petty. Now he's just choosing not to resolve this and it's not gonna help in the long run. 

"I want a well thought out apology, not some half-assed, mediocre bullshit one thats not in private." He explained while pushing open the heavy doors at the entrance, "He probably wants enough acceptance to initiate make-up sex, not to initiate a stronger relationship." 

"That makes sense." Michael shrugged, signing himself in at the front desk and crossed out his scheduled in practice time so Madame knew he wasn't attending that today. Though she was probably going to cancel it anyways since he's on her naughty list. 

"I mean, not that I don't want make-up sex, but I'd feel like an idiot considering we fought over him using me for sex and I don't think the way to fix it is more sex." His feet trotted up the steps as Michael slacked behind a step or two since he's not the more athletic of the two. He's also carrying more in his bag because he's a nice friend and brought Naomi a couple snacks for the morning since she skipped breakfast. 

"Understandable." He mumbled. 

They clambered down the hallway on the third floor after awhile of walking, the two switching from their regular shoes to their dance ones in the hallway. 

Their conversation got cut short when Naomi practically screamed in Michael's face that Madame wants to talk to him, which, to be honest, scared the living shit out of him. This can be either good or bad and he's not hoping for the latter of the two. 

"This is great! Why aren't you smiling?" Naomi's bright eyes gazed at her friend to cheer him up, both of her hands shaking his shoulders to try and knock some happiness into him. "She didn't seem mad at all when she told me to come get you." Her words motivated the boy to go in, his hands letting the bag he held go to the floor and share a look with Ashton who raised his eyebrows to do the same as Naomi and irk him to go. 

As he clicked open the door to Madame's studio he was instantly met with his instructor who, by the looks of it, was expecting him. Her usual attire of black leggings, black leotard with her sheer white split skirt making the boy shuffle closer and nervously ask in his softest tone, "You asked for me?" Being the nice prima he is he followed protocol and stood with his hands behind his back, feet perfectly perched one next to the other. 

"Do you take me as an idiot, Michael?" Her eyes flashed over to his petite frame, a quirked brow to show her suspicion, "Do you think I can't hear Naomi blabber on and on about her failed date and then ask you about the guy you were seen with?"

He swallowed thickly, the fear of what's to come climbing up his spine and creating a fog around his head that shook in disappointment, staring at the floor. 

"This is my studio. I know everything that happens in it, especially when I hear you were doing lifts with that boy who's not even a ballerina." She was strict, never even changing her position of standing tall and haughty, arms crossed and eyes burning into Michael. "I also heard the buzz of you kissing the same boy on the cheek and I hope you remember the golden rule of my primas." 

"Your dancers are off limits, Madame, I know. I told him that." His feet wobbled back and forth on his heels to release some pent up nerves, the mess in his mind made it so clear. He should've seen this conversation coming from a mile away. 

Her hands uncrossed to land on her hips, "If you're hiding a relationship from me, Michael, there will be consequences. I'd hate to take you out of the primas but I'm afraid your boyfriend may lead me to-"

"Madame, he is not my boyfriend, he's no one, just a friend, a very, very new friend." His hands clasped behind him were clamming up, his heart practically lurched out of his chest hearing her mention taking him off the team, the undeniable fright was clear on his face, "He's no one. I'm just staying at his place while mine is. . .getting fixed." He lied. Completely bullshitted the whole thing to his instructor and he's petrified that she may tell he's lying when she examines his face with a deathly stare. 

"On the barre." She demanded. A breath of relief passing his lips as she seemed to drop the conversation in favor of bringing the rest of the class in to begin the rehearsal for today.

-

It's extra awkward when Ashton and Michael leave from the dance studio, they had both called it quits on their first private session of helping strengthen the dirty blonde's routine as he failed to mention the other guys from his classes were there to help too. A couple were nice, some just stared at Michael in perplexity but he didn't care. He's used to it at this point. 

"God, please tell me he's not picking me up." The dirty blonde spotted the black range rover in the distance and rolled his eyes arrogantly, their feet shuffling closer as Ashton peeked through the windows and saw Jack at the driver's seat waving him in with a warm smile. Forgetting his worries as he sat in the passenger seat, Michael's bum plopping down in the back, sipping his water as he studied the way Jack explained what they need to do. 

"I'm taking lunch down to the guys at the warehouse and you can stay if you'd like, I know Luke's there, and Calum's out dealing so you don't have to worry about him." His hand even gestured to the various bags filled with different food from some Chinese take out place that Michael's never heard of. His suspicion kicking in when he actually comprehended what he said, "You know about them?" 

"Yeah, all the guys do. He's being a dick to everyone now, more than usual, like, he pulled his gun out and nearly shot Hunter over some small mistake." Jack's head shook in disbelief, "We all sent him out so he'd stop killing the mood." He began driving out into the downtown area of Sydney, their conversation morphing into a talk about the weather and then ended up discussing the recital coming up. They had received plenty more information today, considering the show is set to happen in two weeks. The tickets prices are fifteen dollars but it goes to twenty dollars at the door if you buy them late. 

"They said it's nearly sold out so you and the guys have to buy the tickets soon, okay?" The mentioning of them going to the recital didn't sound as exciting to Michael as it did to his friend up front. It almost made him scared of the show, they can't be seen with him, for one thing Madame can't see her star dancer around the guy that he claimed to not be in a relationship with and another risk is that his parents will see him around no good gang members. 

"Luke'll be happy to hear that."

"Luke can't come." Michael blurted the sentence out before he had time to process it in his mind, the strictness in his voice making the two go silent and almost feel bad for mentioning him. "Madame will kill me if she sees me around him again, he can't go see me perform thats practically a resignation wish from me. That'll be like me just handing in my tutu and being like here, Madame Louise, I truly did kiss Luke Hemmings, he and I are in a fucking affair and I would much rather suck his dick than dance in your classes."

"Madame?" Jack snorted, "What the hell is this? The renaissance?"

"That's his dance coach, she's a bitch and drops dancers if they're in a relationship with someone." Ashton watched the car drive past their usual house and go deeper into the rundown, grimy place of their town. His own irritation over it being shown as the pink haired boy in the back shook his head. It's so immature, he thinks that's a fair rule considering this is a commitment that should be taken seriously. 

"Is she the lady Hemmings tried to reason with?" Jack spoke as if it was known to all of them, his eyes glancing in the rearview mirror to catch the anger and confusion on the ballerina's pale face, "What?" 

Ashton shrunk lower in his seat, the fact he knew what the man was talking about and Michael didn't made him feel sick. 

"Oh, he didn't tell you? Luke heard the whole rule with dancers being off limits and all that shit so he called the school and tried to reason with your coach to let him, well, date you." The term date made the boy go cold, his skin pricking with goosebumps as he held his breath to try and let that sink in. Luke wants to date him. Luke Hemmings wants to establish a relationship with Michael Clifford. The leader of a gang wants to date the poised and prissy ballerina. 

"That's priceless!" Ashton's laugh filled the car, his hands clapping as he hiccuped through his chuckles, nearly in pain from how much humor he found in this. The fact his best friend is truly rooting against a relationship meanwhile his other friend is pining to start one. It was just so irresistibly hilarious and he can't believe the most ironic thing could've happened. 

"Your coach said no to it, practically screamed his ear off before she hung up." Jack's hands steered them down a gravelly that lead them to a distant area of trees that were dropping leaves like crazy and some were fallen and chopped down. The looks of it matched the usual neighborhood, eery and broken down. A slow stop coming from the car as Jack smiled, parking next to a herd of bikes. 

"When did that happen?" Michael wondered out loud, his body hopping out of the car as he asked the question to the group, the man stopping to think after he shut his door. "Right after you two left for rehearsal, I think."

It all clicked into place now. The blonde called in while the boys were on their way to the academy and so when Michael was told to go see Madame and she interrogated him to the bone it was because she was trying to crack him into saying he wanted to date Luke. He almost cost him his profession over some stupid relationship bullshit. 

The car door opened and they each took bags to help carry the food in, Ashton's shit eating grin practically glued on his lips as they made their way through a clearing in the woods, Jack's voice rambling about how this place is in the middle of nowhere and how much it ticks him off how discrete this place has to be. 

Overall, the size of the place was overwhelming, an abandoned warehouse hidden in the forest behind a multitude of trees and practically crumbling at the sides. Dark concrete walls that had graffiti covering it in various spots, the guy taking them in unlocked the front door using a key and lead them in, smiling when he saw the whole place was buzzing just like he left it. 

"Oh, wow," Michael gaped at the people all around the area, it was way more than the eight he saw before, maybe thirty, thirty five all scattered in different sections, loud music from one corner where a group of unrecognizable kids, literal teenagers were laughing and playing cards, a section for people who are mapping out territories and theorizing future deals using tacks to mark spots. The place where most of the guys from the house stood were over by a ton of crates, their hands constantly reaching in and pulling out a variety of weapons and guns that made Michael's face flush white with fear. 

"Hey, asshats, here's your food." The man handed them all bags as they each thanked him through their fits of laughing, Christian even paid him back because he was feeling nice. They all stayed and talked, Michael's body hiding behind Ashton's as he watched them all converse and act like this wasn't the craziest thing. 

"Luke's down those stairs, first door on the right." The curly haired boy passed him a take out bag that must've been for the blonde, those green eyes thanking him as they crinkled with his smile, following his instructions as he rushed past the group and down the stairs that echoed each step down a long narrow hall. 

His eyes scanned the premises, various doors leading to unknown places, all made of maple oak wood and engraved with fancy lettering, the first door on the right marked with LRH, Michael's eyebrows furrowing until it hit him that those must be Luke's initials. 

Knocking lightly three times to be polite, the pink haired boy spoke a joking, "Delivery." Which was followed by the sound of feet coming closer until the door swung open with a just as playful, "I don't remember hiring a stripper?" That only got Michael's head to shake and his hand gripping the take out bag to shove it into the blonde's chest, flashing a fake smile. "You didn't." He replied back. 

Luke's black eye was still a prominent purple ring that looked like it's swelling had finally stopped. His attire being his signature jacket, a black tee, and skinny jeans ripped and frayed purposely. The combat boots he wore clunked and scuffed against the surface of the wood floor as he ambled over to his desk arrogantly.

"Well, then, why'd you stop by my office?" Those blue eyes were peering up as he smirked at the ground, levering himself down into a leather chair that made him seem so official and authoritative that when Michael heard the door click shut he nearly passed out at the feeling of being alone in here with him. 

As he stumbled up to the desk he could feel Luke's crystalline eyes rake up and down his body, burning his stare into the tutu that bounced ever so slightly with each step he took, those curious green eyes looking at the room in a state of awe, it all looked so different. To see Luke in a room that wasn't his crumbling bedroom was so surreal, he looks professional. 

"Jack brought us here, he said we can stay if we want otherwise he'll take me back to your place in a bit." He never took his eyes off of the wall to his left, examining the various guns up on the wall, losing his train of thought as he quipped up a curious, "Are those loaded?" 

His head turned to look at Luke, the blonde's head shaking, "God, no, what do I look like, an idiot? The ammo's in my desk." He gave a generous pat to the drawer on his right, smiling a bit as he watched Michael get distracted by the desk now, the contents on it specifically. His eyes looked past the bag of take out Luke was unpacking and skimmed over the various pieces of paperwork until he caught himself staring at the gun that Luke kept on the desk. As if it was no big deal, the silver pistol glowing under the lighting in the room practically drew all attention to it. 

"How was rehearsal?" The blonde's feet kicked up onto the surface of his own desk, twirling noodles around his fork as he ate his lunch nonchalantly, the pink haired ballerina suddenly remembering what had happened at dance and huffed, "Oh, it was just delightful, I almost got kicked off of the primas because of you." He spoke sarcastically, slowly letting his rage show as he got further into his sentence until finally, he let both palms land flat against the desk, striking a response from Luke who froze, halfway to eating another forkful of his food. 

"Who told you?" The blonde insisted on hearing his answer, only receiving a pissed off look of arched eyebrows and a head tilt that showed Michael was not going to budge let alone give a shit. 

"That doesn't matter, what matters is the fact you nearly cost me my career because you wanna date me." His emerald eyes bore down onto Luke who gave a very unamused look and rolled his eyes, taking another bite of his food to show he had no comment to add, chewing with his mouth shut because he's nice. 

The audacity he has to just brush this off his shoulder as if pulling what he did wasn't a big deal made the ballerina want to scream his lungs out, because this isn't something small he can brush past and forgive him for. He almost got Michael's ass taken off of his spot on the primas list. That is his only chance at standing out in front of the TABS scouts the night of the recital. 

"You can't be seen around me at dance, if you drop me off or pick me up, if you so much as drive past that street while I'm in the building I will get kicked off the prima's and dropped down a level where I have to dance with Ashton." He could feel his heart race with rage, his feelings all starting to build when all he wants them to do is suppress. "And I cannot, under any fucking circumstances, dance like Ashton does so don't you dare communicate with my school, go near my school, or even mention my school." His body leaned over the desk, towering over the blonde's slumped body in the leather chair, his head giving a curt nod and low, "Understood." 

The sound of a bang going off made the conversation cut short, Luke's hands instantly replacing the food in his hands with his gun and cocked it with a very strict instruction towards Michael to hide in here. 

"What's going on?" The boy stayed in shock from the sound of a gun shot going off, his body jumping when two more were followed after his sentence, a muffled but decipherable yell of, "Where's Hemmings?" Coming from the distance as the blonde double checked he had enough bullets in his gun before pointing to his desk while he headed for the door, "Hide under there and don't make a fucking sound." 

Michael nodded vigorously, his hands shaking as he made sure his phone was on silent and heard the door shut, his body crouched down to stay under the desk, the small space not helping his fears as he curled up with his knees to his chest. He hadn't known what to expect when he heard multiple gun shots sound through the building, instinctively putting a hand over his mouth to fight off his strong compelling urge to yelp every time the noises got closer. 

His chest was going berserk, his heart clambering around in rapid beats that filled his whole body, the sound of his unsteady heartbeat caused his breathing to worsen as he curled his toes and scrunched his eyes shut tight to resist any whimpers from escaping his throat. Unrecognizable voices shouting a jumble of curses as they stomped down those echoing steps, Michael's hand going tighter around his mouth when he hears the door open, banging against the wall in attempt to startle him but he stayed quiet. 

"Alright, Hemmings, where's your little toy hiding?" The sound of a gravelly voice made the ballerina hold his breath and try to count how many beats his heart was doing in order to distract him from the fear that churned his stomach in uncomfortable flips and knots. 

"He's not here, you assholes." The blonde sounded cocky, his confidence being the only legible source to make the pink haired boy feel a little bit safer knowing he's in the room. 

"Bullshit. We saw Jack lead him here, that boy is in this building and you wouldn't just let him wander while we came here, hm? Where's your little hiding spot?" Footsteps carried closer, the deafening thud of Michael's thirtieth heartbeat going in synch with the man's foot that was visible through the smallest sliver of space between the floor and the beginning of the desk. An unsettling nausea built in the ballerina's stomach when he saw faint drips of blood coming off of the boots the man was wearing. 

He can feel his eyes prick with tears when a fist slams onto the table to break the silence, a gruff shout that struck through his body, "Where is he?" His voice was so close and Michael can feel his mind go blank with white noise when he hears the click of a gun coming off of safety sound. 

"Not here, you dumbass, did you not hear me the first time?" The blonde spat as if this was the most boring thing in the world, his voice thick and barely wavering as he added on a quieter remark, "You're not gonna find him." 

"I wouldn't run your mouth like that considering you ran from us yesterday." A new voice joined the group, though he must've been here the whole time, his voice sounded far, like he was nowhere near the desk and it gave the boy under it some time to calm down. 

"I didn't run, had places to be and you're the least of my concerns, Garret." The name spiked the discontent boiling inside of Michael to rise higher, these are the guys that are looking for him. The ones Luke said will evidently torture him to the point he'll ask for death and the blonde said he wouldn't care if they did that. But here he is, hiding him from them so well and effortlessly. 

To say Michael's heart lurched hearing and seeing the footsteps from the other man move to go around the desk was an understatement. He could feel every bone in his body go still and his breathing come to a full stop, ceasing all work in his systems to try and hide as best as he could. 

"You've got a nice office, Hemmings." The gruff voice was creeping closer, the man's legs coming into view as he stepped into perspective, his legs on full display as Michael felt himself go entirely numb, the blood on the man's shoes leaving little splotches with each step as he rummaged through what was on the surface of Luke's workplace. "It reminds me of that fancy place a couple miles out from here." 

There was silence as the man tapped his foot in thought, "Oh, yeah," He remembered. "That pretty little dance academy." Michael let out a barely audible gasp, scared to death that people heard him yet no one responded. 

"Stay away from there." Luke warned in a seethed tone, his voice closer than before as he heard shuffling and a husky laugh come from Bryan who seemed way too close for the ballerina's comfort zone. "Oh, don't worry we don't go anywhere near that place when we can just hack into the security cameras. He's got a hell of a body, Hemmings." 

The man pulled something from the back pocket of his skinny jeans as he spoke, something getting slammed onto the table as Michael flinched at the loud sound. 

"You fucking creep." The blonde growled, "If you so much as look at him my guys will blow bullets through that thick skull of yours." 

"I'd like to see you try." Was the man's immediate reply, the tension thickening as Luke laughed, just as the sound of a bullet going off in the room made Michael jump and curl up smaller as he heard a body fall limp onto the floor. An abrupt thud coming from the weight as the empty bullet cartridge clinked onto the wooden panels. The sound replayed in Michael's mind even though he tried to block out the noise that wouldn't leave. Someone's dead. 

"You son of a bitch." Bryan cursed out the blonde, his body stomping away from the desk and barged around to the front of the room as the sliding of a body was heard, Luke's hands clicked new ammo into the gun as he laughed with a friendly, "Aw, don't leave so soon I was only getting started!" That was followed by the door shutting abruptly, the moment of silence being taken from Michael when he feels the need to destress and relax his once tense muscles. The many deep breaths he took finally let out in loud huffs. 

He heard footsteps come close and Michael only started shaking his head and holding back tears when Luke's body crouched down in front of him, the blonde's eyes expressing his pity when the ballerina instantly fell into his arms and started to cling to his torso, thanking him under his breath multiple times as he buried his face into the man's neck. 

"You did everything right." Luke praised him soothingly, running his fingers through the boy's hair while he only got a loud and sharp inhale from Michael still trying to catch his breath. "I'm not gonna let them get you." 

"They know where I dance." Michael was trying to let the realization that they're following him sink in. His breathing turning into uneven breaths as he felt Luke pull him closer by the small of his back, his anxiety at an all time high knowing that they've been watching him dance through cameras and followed him out to here. What else do they know about his whereabouts?

"I'll get Christian to shut down the cameras tonight and they'll stay off until we get them off your back." The blonde let his cheek rest against the top of Michael's head, the punk allowing the ballet boy to fan uneasy hot breaths against his skin. He was worried for him, he knows he didn't sign up for this sort of thing and he's hoping it'll die down in a week or so. He can't fend for himself in these situations, Luke and his gang are the body guards for Ashton and Michael at this point. 

"You will?" Michael hiccuped.

"Of course, I'll call him down right now." 

"Don't." The blonde froze, his body tangled with the ballerina on top of his lap, the position just now becoming obvious to him as he watched the pink head of hair rise to meet his eyes, a look of worry on his face as the ballet boy tried to muster up the courage to explain why but he only flunked on that idea. His heart was still racing and luckily the nausea settled once and for all. "I wanna thank you." He finally managed to speak. 

"Thank me?" He didn't understand what he was hinting at, letting his blue eyes follow the movement of Michael's hands that were positioning themselves at Luke's neck. With hooded eyes, he smirked, "Oh."

They were still on the floor, the ballerina choosing to lean in first and tilt his head just enough so their noses didn't bump while he let his lips find Luke's and mix together perfectly. The feeling better than the last time as he tasted the man's mouth with a low hum of contentment. Entranced by the feeling of the kiss, Luke found the boy's waist with his eyes still shut and smoothed his calloused fingertips up and down his sides. 

"God, I'd love to keep going, sweetheart, but I need to work. I'm supposed to be training the newbies." His hands gave one last squeeze to Michael's perky ass before he sent a soft pat to one side telling him this has to be postponed until later. He cares about bettering his people and so many of them are stunned from what they just witnessed, obviously not quite used to gore yet. 

They stood and took in the damage done to the office, blood trailed on the floor showing where the dead body was dragged out. The desk now messed up and rearranged in a hectic way to purposely tick him off as the sight of photos made Michael freeze out of fear. 

"Did they take those of me?" His arms didn't move from his sides as he used his eyes to show what he was talking about, the blonde followed his stare and felt his jaw clench, "Yeah." He said thickly, "They did."

They were freeze frames of the dance academy's cameras, black and white grainy images of Michael dancing throughout the week, his body stretched and poised in most as a couple were just crude images of him bending over for some filthy sabotage to tick Luke off. They managed to get into the cameras of the dressing rooms, the memory still vivid from when it was taken, his body was facing away from the camera, showing him in panties as Ashton and him talked while getting dressed for rehearsal. That was yesterday, they had received their costumes and Michael was waiting to get his fitted when that was taken, the tailor had started on his top but he still needs the bottom adjusted to be safe in case he fails to drop five pounds. 

"The studio never has those cameras on, why were they on?" 

"You have no idea what they have the ability to do." Luke shook his head in disbelief.

"Can I come?" The ballerina was honestly scared to leave the blonde's side so he was praying for a yes and was eternally grateful when the punk gave a nod and let him lead the way, ignoring the blood on the ground while the paler boy carefully avoided it. 

The hallway stayed dark as they passed through, a few people upstairs still on guard duty as they stood by the front doors with big guns. 

"Christian, I need you to shut down a set of security cameras, there's a dance school on eighth street, break into the system and shut them off ASAP." The punk sent a solid pat onto the guy's back as he passed them to go follow instructions. His curt nod going to gesture and get the attention of Dillon, "Go clean up the blood from my office and while you're at it clean Hood's office too." 

The way they all obeyed him made the ballerina almost in awe, no one asked questions or hesitated. They each stopped whatever it is they were doing and scurried off to follow orders. He truly was the owner of the company and he is intimidating. Michael sees why they chose him. 

"Cute skirt, pansy." A newbie, obviously by the young face and lack of a leather jacket, shouted at the ballerina who turned cold and tense, hiding behind Luke who only clicked off his gun and sent a quickly aimed bullet at the kid's foot, saying a sarcastic, "Nice shoes, dickwad."

"You shot my foot!" The kid shrieked as if it was uncalled for, his eyes pricked with tears as he clutched his wounded foot and clenched his jaw. Luke only straightened his posture, shoulders broad and overlooked the ten or so teens all watching in shock, his smirk was proud, "Rule number one of being able to join the gang, respect everyone who's above you in this place." Tucking the pistol back into his jacket he smiled fakely at the kid struggling to remain calm because he's hurt. 

"Michael's not a part of this business but he's still at the same level as me here, he is not someone to talk back to or to talk inappropriately to." He sent daggers into everyone's fearful expressions, his point getting drilled into their brains at this point as he smirked, "And if you choose to disobey you'll end up like Mr. Nine Toes over here." A lazy gesture was made to the boy hissing in pain and hopping on one foot, still on the verge of crying as he grit his teeth to fight back any tears. 

Luke's hand moved from the boy to point down at the crates to the right, his voice loud and clear to the group, "Grab a pistol from a crate, it'll be yours to keep but for now you have to return it before leaving this place every day." The directions were strict and to the point, his other hand stayed protectively holding the ballerina's waist to keep him by his side. 

All at once the teens dispersed, a murmur of conversation starting again as the kid who was shot only received help from one of the older guys from the house- Sam, Michael thinks. Loud laughter coming from Ashton because of some joke that one of the guys had told him. It was nice to see him enjoy himself today, until now he was a stressed catastrophe but since the maori is out running deals, he's home free. 

The blonde started moving up to the group, all of them looking at the range of guns that they picked out, very few of them knowing how to operate it or even click it out of safety mode. A couple guys jokingly pointing them at each other as another curiously thumbed over the spinning revolver. 

"Today's just going to be the basics, how to reload, how to hold, how to aim." With a simpering look he helped a guy who was holding the gun like it was the scariest thing on Earth, his arms held straight out as he just barely touched it. Luke's lips in a tight grin as he took the gun and stuck it correctly into the teen's clammy hands. Meanwhile, the pink haired boy to his left stared in amazement at the various pistols on display by these kids, literal adolescents that had to be two years younger than him at least. He can't even fathom sixteen year old him doing any of this. 

"Do you want one?" All of a sudden the pale boy was being spoken to by Luke, his baby blue eyes blinking in genuine concern, his voice tentative as he offered him a weapon like it's nothing important or, not to mention, illegal. 

"N-No, I'm good." His face went slack with his lips parted. 

He watched Luke take his own out of his jacket, the cool metal getting placed into Michael's hand, the same pistol that was used to kill a man no more than half an hour ago, the punk flashed his pale eyes and gave a small smile, "If you're gonna be hanging around us you should know how to use a gun, sweetheart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love all the people leaving kudos, commenting, and just reading this story in general!!! thank you all so much!!! sorry this update was late but don't worry the next one won't be :)


	6. lock the door

"He's doing it on purpose." Ashton was a mess, a huge mess at that, he was being held back by a very weak Michael in the kitchen of the gang's house. All the guys were loud and rowdy in the living room, Calum's shirt was off and he was talking obnoxiously to the group from the center of the room, his brown eyes would sneak subtle glances at the two boys in the kitchen now and then, smirking a little bit. Ashton was still pulling strong with the whole 'no make up sex' rule he set for himself three days ago. Until now, of course.

"Which is why you shouldn't give into him." Michael's pale arms were wrapped around his best friend from behind, holding his ground with a few steps levering him back. He can't let him end up in bed with Calum to resolve their conflict of how much sex they have. It's too ironic and he'll regret it by next morning.

Ashton was bawling his fists at his sides, "God, look at him, with his stupid biceps and stupid v-line." He had no bruises like most guys in the house, barely a scratch on him when he comes back from deals or even fights. They all know it's crazy, too. How he'll get jumped by two guys on the street but leave without a single mark on his body. It was smooth brown skin practically glowing in the other room, Ashton groaned, "I _need_ sex with him."

"No, you don't. Your hormones do, what you truly need is to solve your problems through talking it out." The boy's arms were twigs and he was surprised he lasted more than two minutes holding Ashton back however, he also wasn't all too shocked the moment the curly haired boy pushed through his arms and stormed into the living room mumbling a stern, "You're right." That only he could hear.

He didn't know what to come from this, especially when the boy had stolen the spotlight and clicked the tv off, grabbing everyone's attention as he faced Calum proud and strong, an accusing finger jabbed into that man's bare chest, "You don't treat me like a boyfriend, you treat me like a hook-up." His chin stuck up in a prissy manner, now switching his aim so he would point to himself, "And I don't like that."

The guys all around the couches oohed with their hands over their mouths as Luke gave a knowing stare to Michael who was watching the scene from the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the white frame to observe this exchange. Calum's posture straightened, "Alright," He accepted the confession with his hands held up in surrender, "That's fair." He added on to validate what Ashton said further only to let himself turn against him soon after, "But you also treat me like I'm your chauffeur and your butler. You don't appreciate the things I do for you."

"I wanna be taken on more dates, monthly, if not weekly. I want this to be a _real_ relationship." Ashton proposed the idea, compromising the problem with his face wavering close to the maori's, their eyes locked as the tension filled every space in the room, waiting for Calum to reply on whether or not he agrees. His lips pursed in thought, then he smirked, "Deal."

Michael shook his head, narrowing his lips and failing to understand how that is going to help. He loves his best friend to bits and pieces but he's in an unhealthy relationship.

Ashton giddily tugged the boy out of the room and into the hallway, his lips back on his boyfriend's after the three day hiatus they both took, all of the guys starting to mock the over-exaggerated kissing noises as Hunter even stood up and pretended to get spanked by Christian, the two faking the moans they all know too well.

"Fuck me harder, daddy!" Hunter threw his head back at the same time Luke gave an amused grin across the room to Michael, the shy boy blushing a deep pink at the conversation buzzing through the room, his green eyes shutting as he shook his head and stifled a laugh as a series of 'oh, you like that's fell from Christian's lips.

The ballerina smiled as he walked into the room, his body adorned in one of Luke's shirts and his own pair of leggings, setting himself next to Luke on the love seat his head leaned against his shoulder when the blonde sighed, "They're idiots."

"Yeah." The pink haired boy agreed, "Yeah, they are."

The sound of footsteps padding up the steps made everyone calm down and Jack's voice speak a low, "I swear to God, if they go for three rounds of make up sex I'll go in there and literally stop it." He spoke his mind to the group who chuckled as if it was a joke but Michael wouldn't be shocked if he actually did.

"You don't wanna see them have sex, it's actually terrifying." The pink haired boy butted into the conversation softly, his words making everyone turn to him wide-eyed like curious puppies, their jaws all dropped. "You've seen them-"

"I walked in on them back at Ashton's place and it's so bad, you don't wanna do that to yourself." His head shook, reliving the memory with a shudder and brief flashback to one of his most horrifying and disturbing memories. "They were, like, doggy style and everything."

"Holy shit, man, you're joking." Jack shook his head, swigging the beer bottle in his hand. This was the first time they all looked at Michael as if he wasn't a complete outcast of the group and it made him blush at the thought. His vermillion cheeks causing Luke to nudge him in the side to make him even shyer.

"Y'two makin' me sick with all that lovey dovey bullshit, c'mon we see enough with Hood and Ashton here." Dillon's body was slumped in a chair, relaxing into the leather cushioning for the time being. All too fast the sound of a headboard hitting the wall and the bed frame squeaking hit their ears, "Hear enough, too." The newbie shook his head as everyone collectively rolled their eyes.

"Now it's gonna be twice as loud with these two in the house." Hunter smirked and sent a knowing look at the two on the love seat, Michael's blush going five times deeper than before as everyone seemed to agree, Luke's arm slung around the ballerina's shoulders to pull him closer to his side, "At least I have the decency to lock the door, those fuckers barely even shut it."

-

Luke had a full five days to recover from his injuries by now, his black eye was fading and his bicep was almost back to it's usual strength, so he was more than excited to be granted a chance at fighting someone who stole from their business. Supposedly one of the newbies who took weed and sold it outside of the gang to make their own profit and Luke wanted their ass pummeled by tonight.

"We set up a fake deal, you're meeting him at the back of the diner, he said he'd be alone so you don't need back up." Calum was leaning against the blonde's doorway while he explained the gist of what's going to happen, his face fully serious whenever he'd say anything. He doesn't want him any more hurt than he already is.

The blonde himself had been pacing around his room from excitement, his attire the same all black clothes as usual, his jacket thrown onto his body as he shrugged his arms through the sleeves at the same time he rushed to put on his boots. "I can't wait to crush that twerp into tiny pieces." He cracked his neck at the same time his hand pulled open the bottom drawer to his dresser that actually held guns of all sorts, his fingers skimming across a couple as he hummed in thought.

"Don't kill the kid, just beat him up so he knows not to mess with us." The brunette at the doorway pointed out that death to another person in this town is a big risky situation. They put a magnifying glass over themselves for killing Garret last week and another inconspicuous dead body is the last thing they want in the news to bring attention to them.

"Fine. You're no fun." The drawer shut and he disregarded the need for a weapon since his fists will do, the pale boy sitting criss cross on Luke's bed still had big wide eyes at the fact he never knew guns were in this room at all. He should've expected it, but fuck, that's still gonna put him on edge.

"We're not in it for the fun, Hemmings." His statement rung clear through the room in a thick tone that screamed authority, the blonde having none of it as he shrugged, "You may not be, but I am." The blonde finally had himself standing on two strong feet, eyes leaving the brunette when shuffling was heard and Michael was scrambling from the floor before he tackled him in a tight hug, the green in his eyes unseen as he only screwed them shut and clutched the punk's leather jacket with all his might, breathing in slow breaths when he felt Luke hug back in a much more hesitant motion.

"Be careful." The pink haired boy whispered, the feeling of emptiness instantly surging through Luke as his stomach flipped and his whole body froze momentarily. He never had someone to worry over him during things like this. At least not enough for the person to feel the urge to hug him before he goes as if he may not come back. The ballerina wasn't going to sleep until Luke's back here, he can't imagine having to fend for himself. Their bodies were so close and it was probably the first act of true affection that wasn't a regret from Michael because he didn't pull away fast or let go because someone was in the room, he stayed and he hugged him.

"I will. Stay safe while I'm gone, don't leave the house, alright?" His hand stayed on the dip in Michael's back, holding him for a moment as he lifted his gaze to see Calum shaking his head in annoyance, mouthing a silent, "You're unbelievable." That Luke read off his lips with a pique of his eyebrow to show his curiosity.

The maori only continued his disapproval and left to go in his own room, the sound of the door clicking shut made Michael finally open his eyes after shutting them for so long, his hands unfurled so he could smooth his palms over Luke's jacket, "When will you be back?"

The blonde bit his lip in thought, "An hour, maybe less." His hands were set on the curves of Michael's waist now, slowly running his hands over the fabric so it would ride up and his alabaster skin was revealed. The milky color getting soft circles run over by the pads of his thumbs. "I won't be hurt much, maybe a bruise if he's lucky, there's nothing for you to worry about."

"I don't want to be alone," His green eyes casted to the floor, "It's scary."

He sounds like a wimp. A downright anxious wimp because he's afraid of being left here to fend for himself, the guys in the gang can protect him but not in the same way Luke does. Because Luke is genuinely doing it, he's not being told to just keep someone safe and make sure they don't get hurt. He's throwing caution to the wind to try and make sure no one bad lays a finger on him no matter the case.

"If it helps, here," Luke pulled his gun from his coat to give it to him instead, an offer of sorts for his own protection, the heavy weight dragging down Michael's hands as he held it, "I taught you how to use it, if at any moment a stranger comes in the house looking for you, you shoot them. Only if the guys don't get to them first." He also stopped to turn around, a quick glance around the room before he found Michael's phone and started to type on it, "I'm giving you my number, text me if something happens, I'll also text you when I'm on my way back." He sent himself a text off of the boy's phone so he could have Michael's number too and sighed.

"Anything else you need, go to Calum, he'll understand. He does the same to Ashton." The blonde watched Michael anxiously nod in understanding, dragging his eyes from the gun back up to the person who gave it to him, the worry behind those ocean blue eyes was obvious. He's knew to this, they both are, but Luke never even thought he'd be so stressed over him leaving. He gets it, though, and he's trying his best to compromise for any situation.

"Can I kiss you?" Michael broke the silence, his heart pounding in his chest as he could see the tenseness in Luke's eyes soften as he gave a light-hearted smile, granting him the opportunity with a curt nod, barely having time to ready himself when he feels lips graze his before slowly locking together in a slow kiss. The touch sparking a fire in Michael's veins that pulsed through him to his hands that clutched the punk's shirt tight enough to turn his knuckles white, having to toss the pistol to the side to do so.

Luke's hands steadied against his hips, pulling him closer to sneak his tongue between Michael's lips and taste the mintiness of his mouth, absolutely falling more and more infatuated with the ballet boy.

When they both pulled away the blonde let his forehead rest against the ballerina's own, humming softly in appreciation as Michael only let out a quiet, breathy laugh. Finding it funny how he's so wrong about how he feels, because he likes Luke. He so deeply likes him right now and it just hit him so fast that he just had to laugh. Madame would blow her top if he said it out loud but that didn't stop him.

"I like you, Luke." He said it slowly to make sure that the blonde understood he wasn't saying it just to say it. "I really, really do."

The blonde felt his own heart start to beat faster, his mind going dizzy as he smiled, "I like you too." His stomach wasn't flipping at this point, it was doing somersaults on a high-wire without a safety net. "So much." He added on.

Before the pink haired boy could open his mouth to say something about where this can go he felt a chaste kiss get placed on his forehead, the blonde stalking towards the door as he gave a hopeful smile, "I have to go now, we'll continue this when I come back."

-

It nearly just passed sixty minutes when Michael's phone is lit up by a text from Luke saying he's on his way back, the excitement flooding through him full speed as he texts back an OK and sprints through the room down the hall and into Calum's room without knocking, luckily not walking into any intimate moment as Ashton appeared to be helping the maori fold his laundry on the bed while the brunette put the folded clothes in the desired drawers.

"I need your help." The boy grinned from ear to ear, a finger pointed in the curly lad's direction abruptly, Ashton's hands finished folding a pair of skinny jeans before looking at Michael, "With?" He asked expectantly.

All of a sudden the pink haired boy went bashful, his excitement level still high when he leaned against the doorway and blushed, "Luke's coming back and we're gonna. . .you know. . ." He hinted with a his cheeks turning rosy.

"You're having sex?"

"N-No, not that far. Maybe. I don't know. We're doing something, but I don't have any clean clothes left and I don't want to wear anymore of his." He gestured to the shirt he wore, actual proof that he's been living off of Luke's band tees and his yoga pants that he's washed plenty of times now.

"Then don't wear any clothes, it'll be the best gift to give him, honestly." Calum joined the conversation, smirking like the cocky bastard he is as he said it. His boyfriend only rolled his eyes, "Don't listen to him. But you don't have to, well, be _fully_ clothed." Ashton picked up underwear from the laundry basket for reference.

"I don't have any more panties left, the rest are at my apartment." He timidly whispered it, Luke is twenty minutes away from them right now, deep into the bad side of the city. "Can you guys grab me some?" Michael wasn't asking for much, just for his best friend to run back to his place and stuff some new clothes into a bag for him to wear for now.

The brunette groaned, "That's a ten minute drive!" He protested, the ballerina only pouting, "Six if you speed." He coaxed him with puppy dog eyes he learned from Ashton who seemed to be on his side with this one, his body scrambling out of the bed in the least graceful manner as he started tugging on shoes, "We can run down for you, I'll grab you some clothes." He said it sincerely and Michael honestly can't thank him enough right now when they start for the door and soon they're leaving down the street for his apartment, Ashton has his spare key.

In the mean time Michael brushed his teeth, using Ashton's toothbrush because he didn't have his own just yet. He checked his hair a total of nine times in the mirror before he heard the car pull back into the driveway in an astounding fifteen minutes later, Ashton scurrying into the house with a bag full of clothes, Calum close behind with a lot less enthusiasm.

"Come on." A strong grip on his wrist and a tug up the stairs, "I grabbed so much from every drawer, there's another bag in the car of just your dance clothes but I got you this for now." He plopped the tote bag onto the floor of Luke's room and suddenly Michael was way too ecstatic over hearing he has fresh dance clothes to wear. He hasn't stepped foot in his house in about a week and it's really starting to suck, especially when all of his clothes smell like home.

"Try these," Ashton dug through the bag before finding a pair of black lacey underwear and then looked up at Michael, "Keep Luke's shirt on, diss the pants."

The boy slid out of his leggings and switched from his old panties to the new pair and constantly checked himself out in the mirror, not in a conceited way, he was self conscious on how he looked in a baggy tee that exploited AC/DC and had infinite tears and rips in it. He made sure the panties weren't entirely covered by the shirt and smiled at his feet when Ashton said something about how Luke will love it.

"I'll keep everyone downstairs so you two won't have to worry about interruptions." The curly lad was heading for the door at the same time it opened, a very pristine Luke who looked as if he wasn't harmed at all and just barely seemed out of breath stood there in the entrance.

Ashton smirked, "He's all yours." His hand clapped a few gracious pats on the blonde's shoulders at the same time he exited the room, his feet shuffling down the hall in no rush as he called the guys down for another intense game of poker which had them all leaving their rooms to go downstairs like he promised.

The door clicked softly and they were silent, Michael was staring at his feet and had his back facing the blonde so he wouldn't see the nerve wracking anxiousness of if he'll like how he looks or not plastered on his face. His eyes peered over his shoulder, finally looking at Luke with his vibrant green eyes that swarmed with silver and a few specks of blue, his sight on the blonde who seemed utterly captivated by him.

He was devouring Michael with his own eyes, tearing his clothes off in his mind as he walked closer to the boy who nearly gasped at the feeling of hands going to his hips and let the blonde take in his outfit choices. He did himself a favor and rid the hem of Michael's shirt up to reveal the panties, his gruff moan under his breath followed by a muttered, "Fuck." Had the pink haired boy knowing he definitely didn't disappoint.

"Wanna pick up where we left off?" The ballerina spoke at last, his nerves diminishing now that he knows Luke's enjoying this too. The sound of his voice was silken and smooth, drenched in angelic honey that made Luke only turn the boy around and instantly lock their lips as a response, the boy tasted heavenly. Just as lovely as he remembers.

They both tilted their heads and Luke prodded his tongue so it slipped graciously between Michael's soft lips, determined to make this get hotter. He grabbed a handful of Michael's ass, blunt nails forming crescents into the smooth skin. He heard the ballet boy hum in appreciation, his smaller hands rushing to undo and undress everything on the blonde's body.

"Lock the door." The pink haired boy was panting, his lungs craving oxygen after holding a good minute and a half of making out. He felt warmth cascade over every inch of skin Luke touched, burning a fire inside his stomach that was fueled by lust.

"Lay on the bed." The blonde was pulling his leather jacket off as he ambled to the door, dropping the heavy coat onto the floor with a thump as he turned the lock so no one could come in. He heard the faint sound of Michael settling onto the bed, his gaze burning into Luke's body as he stripped heading back over to the boy. His shirt getting torn from his chest to show his body bandage free but still scarred and bruised but nothing too severe. He toed his way out of his skinny jeans and left his boxers on for the time being.

"One rule," Michael spoke as the blonde started to hover above his body on the bed, the dangerously blue eyes blinked to tell him to go on, "No hickeys where anyone can see them." His mind can't get the idea out of his head where Madame may catch him with a love bite and send him out of the studio. He can get hickeys just none where she'll find them.

"Okay. One more rule," Luke had steady hands based next to each side of Michael's head, the boy gave a short nod to show he was listening, "I'm yours and you're mine."

He had a smirk on his face, one that the ballerina wanted to slap off for a second but he caught himself in a situation where he couldn't resist him anymore.

Michael was persistently going over the one burden keeping that from happening. _Dancers are off limits. Dancers are off limits. Dancers are off limits._ The four words did nothing except dissipate when he looked at those piercing blue eyes.

He would hate himself so much if he let something like Luke go.

"Deal." The pink haired boy whispered it in a rush before smashing his lips back onto Luke's, pulling him down by the nape of his neck at the same time the blonde flipped their positions and let the shorter boy straddle his lap roughly as they kept their lips kissing. Low grunts and moans emitting in between their mouths as the pink haired boy slid his one hand down the punk's torso, the skin was hot but smooth, like he imagined it would be.

They had never been this close to the other in their lives and it was barely sinking into their minds. This is happening. Michael's making out with Luke with hands exploring their bodies and he never knew this would happen. If someone told the Michael from last week he'd end up making out with a gang member he would've laughed in their face.

It wasn't until Luke bucked up his hips to get into a more comfortable position when Michael felt the outline of his length press against his thigh, a now distinctly obvious tent in his boxers felt by the dancer who hummed a moan with his lips pressed against Luke's collarbone, sucking a crimson red mark into the smooth skin.

Michael rushed to palm the bulge in Luke's boxers, the heel of his hand dragging desperately slow in contrast to their fast, needy kisses. He could hear Luke hiss out various curse words, whispering about how much of a tease he is at the same time his own calloused hands knead at his bum through the panties. Michael giggled in response to his words, breathy laughs against the love bite which he finished off with a chaste kiss, as if it were delicate and fragile.

"What do you want?" Luke was speaking in a rasp, his voice gone hoarse after groaning and moaning over the boy on his lap. He wanted to make sure that Michael gets the pleasure he's in the mood for, he's a priority now.

The pink haired boy was already backing up in between the blonde's legs, "Wanna suck you off." He mumbled through his lips that were tingling and puffy from making out for so long. His hands tugged at the waistband against Luke's hips, testing it's elasticity just because and snapped it against his skin curiously to see what effects it had.

The punk watched through hooded eyes, studying the way Michael jumped at the opportunity, his blood was pumping furiously fast, his mind a hectic mess of lust as he looked at the amber eyes blinking up at him and felt his dick twitch noticeably. The ballerina close to his crotch only wrapping his lips around the head of him through the fabric of his boxers.

The blonde's hand tugged at Michael's hair, his actions being a sign for him to hurry and stop teasing as per usual. The boy obliged. Squirming from the excitement that coursed through him like a current of electricity, he pulled at the Calvin Kleins Luke wore, his member now open to the cool air that felt so hot to them from how much tension filled the room.

Michael's tongue licked a thick stripe from the shaft to his tip, going down on the head after to taste the pre come that leaked. He heard a moan and smirked, getting the response he wants from the punk. He tasted sweet but in a subtle way and he loved it. His hands gripped Luke's thighs tighter, back arching as he goes an inch deeper down the blonde's shaft.

"Fuck, Michael." He moaned, head thrown back so it fell onto his pillow, shutting his eyes tight as he felt the boy's lips go even further. His hand dug deep in his pink fringe tugged harder, his dick twitching in his mouth as he felt the Michael's small hand go to his balls, the blonde cursing through his rasp as his eyes opened to watch the boy just in time to see him pull off for a second or two. The ballerina pumping Luke's length from shaft to tip teasingly slow. His eyes making contact with Luke who looked, in one word, wrecked.

His hair was a mess of blonde strands, the sweat on his forehead that beaded over time matted down some of his hair and his whole chest was rising and falling in heated puffs of breaths.

"Just like that," The punk gravelly praised him, voice hoarse and rough as he feels Michael's hand jack him off at just the right pace, his wrist giving the slightest twist at the end that made his jaw go slack and a moan emitted from his throat lowly, ricocheting off the walls in the room and reverberating to reach Michael's ears, the boy's lips were puffy and red, his tongue running over the bottom one to taste some pre come that was still there.

"Feels so good." He's a mess now, the entire room feels hot and Michael's scooting back again so his head could duck back down onto his length, feeling his dick hit the back of his throat and causing him to stifle a gag. Amber eyes welled with tears as he listened to the praise from the blonde, working Luke towards his climax by jacking him off faster, cursing and moaning into the air to encourage him to keep going.

He feels Luke's hand find the back of his neck and gives him the control as he pushes his head down onto his dick. Michael's throat relaxes so he could take it all, breathing slowly through his nose as a tear manages to fall. It was painful but enjoyable, far more than worth it when he hears Luke scream from pleasure and bucks his hips up high enough to fuck his face.

"Sh-Shit, Michael." He's whispering now, saying his words in one trembling breath he had to let out. His hips continuing to thrust into him as the boy hums to show he was listening, one hand leaving the blonde's thigh to cling onto his torso, digging his blunt nails into the skin for some form of handle to keep him steady. His back arched, Luke's tee shirt that he wore was riding up and his ass was shown in full display with his panties still on.

The punk groaned at the sight, devouring the boy with his eyes as he quickened his pace, hoping to reach his climax quicker, the fire in his stomach was growing and growing, producing a burning feeling that was so close to nearing it's end. He's tugging at Michael's hair, looking down at him with dilated blue eyes that looked so deep and hungry and he can't stop relishing in the sight of Michael with flushed red cheeks and swollen lips as he takes his thrusts with lust coursing through his hums and clawing at his chest.

A low growl comes from Luke when he feels Michael's tongue swirl around his length and brought his lips off the shaft so he just had the tip in his mouth, he let his eyes flutter up, maintaining intimate eye contact as he lays his tongue flat over the head and gives his cock one last kitten lick before he sits up on his knees. An alluring look in his eyes as he tore the band tee off his body and threw it onto the floor beside Luke's clothes.

"You didn't think I'd just want to suck you off, hm?" He's playing with the waistband of the lace panties, Luke's mouth watering at the sight as he licks his lips and chews on the bottom one, his lips curving up in a mischievous smirk while he crawled back up onto Luke's lap. 

They were face to face again, the blonde's lips brushing over Michael's before he picked up pace and smashed them together in a passionate kiss. The ballerina deepened the kiss, letting their tongues mix and his hands bury into the tufts of blonde fringe, Luke's hands assisting him in dragging down his panties. They each moaned in synch, lips smacking loudly as the smaller boy gets turned onto his back so Luke could tower above him, still intertwining their lips hastily.

It was going by so fast, a blur of movements that were almost hazy in his mind, the lust was driving him and he was focused on Luke and only Luke, how the punk was reaching off to the side and clicking open a bottle of lube with lurid eyes looking over him. He could feel the way those crystalline eyes studied his naked body, basking in the sight as he puts some of the clear gel on two fingers and spreads Michael's legs, muttering a low, "You okay with this?"

The pink haired boy gave a vigorous nod, "Yes, please." He's squirming, his spine arching up when he feels a finger go into him, letting out a gasp of a moan as he shuts his eyes blissfully, he felt the world speed up and his mind go blank, finding himself lost in the feeling of his fingers inside of him, every stretch and crook making him let out sharp gasps of pleasure.

"Luke," He's out of breath at this point and the blonde curls his fingers as he answers with a low, "Mhm?" That made Michael tremble and moan, "I'm- I'm good, just need you now." He could feel the three fingers in him leave and soon he's catching his breath, head sinking into the fluffy pillow on the mattress as Luke adjusts himself so he's at his entrance.

"Fuck me already." Michael squirmed, he's not here for teasing he wants a release and he wants it soon.

"As you wish, sweetheart." He wastes no time and doesn't go gentle, pushing himself all the way into Michael with one thrust that shakes the smaller boy to the core, unable to stay quiet when he jolts his head to the side and screams out Luke's name. He can't take it anymore, restraining his moans only made him more desperate to scream and he feels so good that it's impossible not to.

His thrusts are hard and surprise him every time he pushes into him with such strength and control that Michael's close to release soon after ten minutes, he can feel the sweat on his skin stick to the sheets and his hands are clutching Luke's shoulders to remain steady against his powerful thrusts. He's close too, Michael sees it on his face and in the way his hips stutter every once in awhile.

They both moan, the amber eyed boy watching as the blonde's jaw goes slack and his eyes struggle to stay open, "Oh my God," Luke's hand finds a better grip on Michael's hip higher up on his waist, left hand trailing to his opposite thigh as he goes deeper than any thrust has gone so far, the weak spot getting struck dead on as Michael's eyes scrunch shut and his lips fall open, a squeak of a moan leaving his lips as he sputters out a fast string of sentences all bunched into one, "DoitagainDoitagain."

Luke's head leans down and connects their lips in a sloppy open mouthed kiss, the blonde reeling back only to copy his motions from before and hit Michael in the same electrifying spot that jolted up and down his spine and flourished through his body, having to move his head to the side to break the kiss and moan again, louder.

"You close?" The blonde kisses down his neck playing it safe and not biting any marks into him, he only lets his lips grace his neck as he murmurs the words into his skin, thrusting painfully hard but lustfully good into the boy's ass, Michael nods, "Mhm." He hums out an answer while the feeling builds in his stomach, he's almost there and his high is soon to be reached.

"Fuck, me too." He's dipping his lips lower, onto the middle of Michael's chest as he bites that skin, there's no way anyone at his dance school will see hickeys on his chest, and the pink haired boy doesn't stop him, just gasps with every thrust and digs his nails into the blonde's shoulders.

There's red marks along his chest, tingling against his skin as he feels Luke's hips stutter and slow his pace, the punk's head dipping down into his neck as he gives a final thrust that tips him over the edge, Michael's climax lasting the longest it ever has as he comes with Luke's name falling multiple times off his lips, his body is numb with bliss, the relief washing over him as he hears the blonde moan his name back and come inside him. Their bodies tangled as they stayed pressed together on the mattress, catching their breath.

There's a moment where Michael feels himself come down from his release and lets it all sink in about what happened, his body is warm and covered in goosebumps, hickeys mark his chest in no certain pattern, his lips are kiss swollen and bruised. He's one hundred and ten percent sure that was the best sex he ever had.

His eyes fall to Luke, the blonde's body falling limply to his left and soon reached off to the side of the bed and pulled a hot towel out, it's damp and feels heavenly against Michael's skin as he feels Luke clean him and himself up before tossing it somewhere in his room for it to get lost in the mess of things. There's sheets going over his body and a strong arm around his waist.

"So, dancers are off limits, hm?" He teases lowly, his voice consists of a raspy and deep tone that makes the ballerina chuckle lowly, "What Madame doesn't know won't hurt her." He whispers back, his voice is cracking and broken and he most definitely won't have a voice in the morning.

But that doesn't matter, he decides, fluttering his eyes shut and moving closer to Luke to sleep for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first major smut of many ;) if you enjoyed it please comment or leave kudos and talk to me on my tumblr (malumaffairs)


	7. not a date

His muscles are burning, there's loud accompaniment of classical music booming through the theatre as he rehearses his solo, the fellow primas are watching him from the seats and they're either in awe or they're envious. He pays no attention to them, his eyes are shut, he's in his own world, he's in his happy place and it's the most peaceful state he's been in for so long.

There's nothing on his mind except his dance- grand jete, pirouette, pas de chat, et cetera, et cetera. He's losing himself into the music, spinning across the stage as he reaches and holds like he's been taught for years. The way he can get into this headspace of dancing that some of the other dancers were still working to achieve shows how he's so into his music that it creates this aura in the room that makes everyone sit and watch.

It wasn't even the real show yet, this was just the dress rehearsal where they run the entire show in costume as if it's the real thing. He's just practicing and it's already perfect.

The music dies down, his body standing in the center as he finishes with an effacé that makes everyone sit jaw dropped, Naomi applauding him as Ashton does a wolf whistle and obnoxious cheering while the boy steps off the stage and into the seats where his friends were waiting for him. Madame was quiet, her praise only being a short and curt nod to tell him a silent good job. He took it as a compliment and smiled at his lap, he put his all into making his solo look incredible, incredible enough to win back his instructor and he thinks it worked.

"Your spins need to look less strained." Madame's voice is piping up from where she sat scribbling notes down on her clipboard, probably critiquing his work down to the bone like she does to everyone, "You looked in pain."

"Because you got fucked in the ass." Ashton whispered low enough to only let the words pick up in Michael's ears. The ballerina shot him a stare that could kill and gave him a cautious look, the dirty blonde only parting his lips in shock as he realized that he can't mention stuff like that. Not here, not around anyone in dance, or else the word will spread and he's kicked off the the prima's over having Luke be his kind of boyfriend (he's not sure what they are really).

"I'll fix them, I promise." He speaks to his instructor as the young girls in a lower class scurried onto stage for their practice rehearsal. Michael's phone buzzed from his bag at his feet and he slowly and inconspicuously reached for it, his thumb clicked his screen back on and furrowed his eyebrows at the text on his screen. Luke texted him, his lip sucked between his teeth only to fall out as he read it over and over again.

_you left your lunch here do you want me to drop it off?_

Dress rehearsals are longer than most of his ballet classes, they typically go from eight in the morning to four in the afternoon so everyone brings snacks to munch on during their breaks. He considers the risk of Luke driving to the theatre and getting seen by Madame, he also considers just sharing Ashton's lunch of peanut butter and jelly with an apple on the side, but then his stomach growls at the idea of eating his own fruit salad with cream cheese dip and he's hastily texting the blonde to sneak into the back and to be as quiet as a mouse.

His text back is read in seconds and the punk is typing before he can even lock his phone again.

_sure thing sweetheart xx_

The pink haired boy feels a presence to his left and flinches when he sees Naomi hovering over him as she grins wickedly, "Are you two gonna hook up in the dressing rooms?" She's subtle as she says it, a very pointy elbow nudging his ribs at the same time he shushed her, "He's dropping off my snack." The pretentious tone in his voice made her sigh, "You're no fun, live a little."

He's rolling his eyes now to face the very amateur girl dancers on the stage, their routine wasn't bad it just wasn't as difficult and expertly choreographed like he's used to seeing.

"I'll distract Madame so you can sneak down to the dressing room, okay?" The girl beside him is standing from her seat, the light tool flowing behind her off the costume she wore as she politely excuses herself from the friend group. She was being a nice friend by creating a diversion for Madame, probably blabbering her mouth off with compliments about the dance coach. The pink haired boy stands to rush towards the nearest exit with as little noise as possible as he could manage.

There's a soft creak as he shuts the door and rushes through the hidden entrance for the dressing rooms underneath the stage, they were cramped but he chose the one marked primas in fancy cursive before swinging it open only to yelp at the blonde who beat him here with a very timid smile, the Tupperware in his hands held out to show his lunch, "Surprise." He speaks in a shy tone.

"Jesus, Luke, why are you in here anyone could've seen you." The ballerina is taking his snack with a look of pure distress on his face as he turns and locks the dressing room door to be safe. This is risky enough as is but he's dying to eat his fruit. He can hear the music for the girl's dancing muffle through the ceiling as his own eyes observe the way Luke dressed, he dissed his leather jacket which was odd. The blonde had come here in ripped black skinny jeans and a red and black flannel that was unbuttoned twice on the top. He wore rings on his fingers and his lip piercing that was once silver was switched to a matte black one.

"You look nice." The dancer comments on his appearance with a soft smile, the punk looks him up and down, "So do you." He's wearing his outfit for the upcoming recital, a white and gold tutu that fluffed out in a perfect circle, the corset perfectly embroidered with gemstones and lace, his short puffy sleeves draped off his shoulders as he wore silver pointe slippers and white sheer tights.

"It's custom made." He smiles proudly, pivoting so he could place his food off to the side while Luke slipped his hands around the boys waist from behind, the touch simple but still sent strong chills up his spine. He's blushing when he feels lips chastely peck his cheek and scrunches his button nose cutely, "Stop, we can't do anything I'll get caught."

His eyes glance at the door at the same time he feels those hands wrapped around him tug the ballerina closer so they could be pressed against one another Luke hummed in thought, "Maybe we will, maybe we won't." His teeth bit gently onto the boy's ear, he felt so good and his hands were so warm, Michael found himself falling under his spell.

His kisses are so sweet, he moves so slow and lets the touch linger, there's not much he can do except remind himself how wrong this is until he can force his lust deep down and move away from him.

"Luke, no. This is– This is a bad idea, you need to go." He's switching his tone into a worried whisper again, lifting a finger when the blonde tries to intervene, he shushes him, "I am at rehearsal. I need to dance. I can't be-"

"Michael, listen-"

"I can't be making out with you, that's absurd." He's hissing his sentences out so those wandering through the hallway or close to the stage can't hear him. He's going to unlock the door and lead him out when the punk begins following him with a groan.

"You promised to stay away from my dance life, keep it that way, okay?" The ballerina is meticulous in his walk to the back door, triple checking that the coast was clear before he'd step or turn a corner. They were greeted with the bulky metal door marked stage crew only in bright red when Luke speaks.

"Wanna grab something to eat later?" His eyes scan over the boy who's not exactly happy he's asking him this right now. This is the wrong place and wrong time to ask him out, the pink haired boy is trying to speed this up and open the door for him when he nods, "Yeah, sure, whatever."

The blonde is stepping outside when he gives a smirk, "I'll pick you up when this ends, we're going to the diner." And the door shuts. Michael's cheeks blushing as he heads back to practice.

-

It's a date. That's what Ashton screams in his face once they finished using the showers in the dressing room after rehearsal comes to an end for the day. He never thought of it as that, he figured the whole gang is going to be with them for dinner. But when the curly haired friend of his says that he never even heard of a dinner with the gang tonight he starts to cave into this supposed date.

"It's gonna be you and Luke, that's it." Ashton's ruffling his wet hair with the towel in his hands as he walks towards his clothes, he's only wearing boxers but Michael's seen his best friend half naked before so it doesn't faze him. His own body is already halfway dressed into his original clothes, he's pulling leggings up his thighs when he thinks of a reply.

Michael shakes his head, "It's not a date."

He's more than telling Ashton, he's telling himself, too. This isn't a date. It's merely two people discussing topics over food. But in a friendly way.

"I don't know what world you live in, but in the real one, Luke asked you on a date." Ashton sing songs the last few words as he shimmies trackies back onto his legs.

"Quiet down, Madame might hear you." He's tugging a shirt over his head, one of his sweaters that Ashton brought from his place last night, it's a pale grey with this soft cotton inside, he missed it a hell of a lot.

"She left ten minutes ago, I can shout it from the rooftops." He triumphantly exclaims what's on his mind as Michael only rushes to shove his things in his bag, the phone in his hand signified he got a text, "Luke's waiting, I have to go."

"Yes, go and have a cute diner date with a bad boy, you little-" "Shut it." He leaves the dressing room with a hidden smile, "I'll tell you about it later." He's letting the door close by itself and ascends for the door in the back. Most people are leaving out the front and he's thankful to see Luke alone in the back lot.

He's on the phone with work, Michael can tell by the tone that he's not in a joking mood with whoever is on the other line, his motorcycle is revved up and waiting as he leans against it, ankles crossed and free hand in his pocket.

"I can't bring anything to you until tomorrow, my schedule's full for tonight," He's staring at Michael as he says it and his hand leaves the pocket in his jeans to pat the boy's bum appreciatively, the ballerina blushing when he did such a thing and went to put his bag on the back of the motorcycle.

"No, I can't cancel anything, it's important shit." Luke rolls his eyes, waiting for a response as he gives a snappy reply. "Listen, I can send out one of my guys if you need it that bad but I personally can't deliver anything." He's listening to the response from whoever is on the opposite line and smiles when he sees Michael click the helmet onto his head already.

Just as fast as he had smiled his face drops into a scowl, "Well, it's either one of my guys tonight or I bring it to you in the morning, so pick fast." There's silence and he takes that brief pause as a moment to sigh, free hand finding the small dip in Michael's back that he used to lever the boy closer to his chest. "Okay, I'll send someone now." He waits another moment, "Mhm, bye."

The phone clicks off and he finally speaks to the dancer, "Are you all set?"

Michael nods, then considers if he should ask him what this is, then he realized that's awkward and never spoke up only smoothed a small hand over Luke's arm still lacking a jacket. He liked him without it, he looked less scary and more approachable. If he dissed the lip piercing and wore better shoes he'd even look like someone in Michael's neighborhood.

They drove for what felt like twenty minutes until they wound up back at the place where they were in the beginning of the month, the diner looked more alive now that it was around dinner time, families and friends all taking booths and tables as people even stayed for the bar. Luke looks so happy when they start heading for the entrance, he's smiling and tugging Michael by their intertwined hands like a kid in a candy store.

"Slow down my feet hurt from dance." He's sluggish and tired as they wait for a hostess to seat them, the inside is loud and happy with clinks of silverware and glasses. There's positivity in the air and the waiters and waitresses are all smiling even when one of them gets a look at Luke at the door, they remembered what he did earlier this month and yet the girl still flashed them a smile.

"Just you two today?" She's picking up menus as she asks them the question, the blonde nods and she directs them to a booth with her hands placing silverware and menus on opposite sides. 

They sat across from one another at the same time she said their waiter will be with them shortly, leaving them be with a timid grin.

"We're getting milkshakes, whether you like it or not." Luke speaks immediately, a tone in his voice that shows his humor but at the same time his expression says serious. He's lifting the menu up in both hands, "They're to die for, Michael, trust me."

"I never took you as a milkshake kinda guy." Michael mutters it with a smirk, his eyes leaving the entrees section to glance at the blonde, a sly smirk on his lips when those baby blue eyes gaze back at him to reply, "Why? Because I'm in a gang and bad boys can't enjoy a nice milkshake when they drink one?"

Secretly, Michael did act like a hypocrite saying that because yes, he thinks Luke's bad boy reputation means no cute sensitive things that gang leaders wouldn't necessarily like- cupcakes, milkshakes, Michael in general. He's as girly as a guy can get, he's lucky his ass hasn't been beaten up yet because he lives in a nice neighborhood, now, not so much.

"Sweetheart, my work life is far different from my personal one." The fact he calls it work confuses the ballerina, because to him, work is being an accountant or a lawyer not an underground dealer who fights people in abandoned warehouses. There's a huge difference and he's nonetheless still skeptical about the entirety of Luke's business. Is it a business? It's an illegal one, if anything.

"How did you get into that kinda stuff?" He's careful with his wording since they are in public and the blonde needs to stay on the down-low for the most part. This town isn't the cleanest with criminal records and such, so it's not uncommon for so many gangs and burglars and whatevers to live here. But that doesn't mean the police don't watch people like hawks, they try their best to catch anyone they can but there's so many it's honestly tough.

"I was thirteen, my dad left before I was even born, my mum got put into jail for some bad shit. I had to go to a foster home, snuck out within three months and lived on the streets for a good four weeks by hiding in abandoned apartment buildings and hospitals, I met Calum one day and he snuck me into him and his sister's apartment for a place to live and we ended up building our business there." He's reserved when he's telling him this but it also sounds rehearsed, like he's told this over and over to the point he's comfortable sharing it.

"Calum has a sister?" Michael's never heard of her from Ashton, he's sure he would've. Then again, do any of the guys in their house have any family members?

His hands clasped the menu tighter, " _Had_ , he  _had_  a sister." That's where he starts to close up on talking about anything, the moment he sees those blue eyes turn cold. His mind swarms with questions, thousands of things to ask him but he only lets himself ask one out loud, "What happened?"

There's silence at their booth, the diner still buzzing as he just sits waiting for an answer with wide eyes and a curious mind. The punk is staring at the menu, pretending to be interested in the specials for the day, he doesn't stare up at Michael when he replies sternly. "Ask Calum."

He doesn't feel filled with curiosity hearing that, he might as well ask a brick wall because talking to that guy is basically the same thing. He's never open about his feelings and this subject screams touchy and emotional, so he plans on asking Ashton instead, he has to know the story behind Calum's sister.

"Did she. . .die?" He's whispering it so lowly, almost scared that he thought of the idea, his heart is so fast in its pace when he sees Luke meet his stare, almost threatening him with the look, " _Ask Calum_." He says it slower this time, trying to end the conversation there which works since the dancer shuts up at his strict tone.

Luckily, the waiter saunters over and smiles at the two while asking them for their orders and Michael decides on another salad from here and Luke gets some sort of burger at the same time he asks for a strawberry milkshake and a chocolate one. He collects their menus and gives them a rather quiet thank you before he rushed to get their food and drinks ready.

Luke decides to switch subjects by digging through his back pocket and sliding a small slip of paper across the table, the blonde whispers to him, "I bought this today." and with further inspection Michael's eyes notice the familiar logo and the date on the paper and the way it's the same sturdy cardboard paper that they use for tickets at dance and holy shit, it's a ticket for his recital.

"You're going?" He feels nervous, his routine suddenly not good enough for Luke's eyes to watch. He wants to fix his spins and his leaps so much more now, he wants to help everyone fix their work because Luke is going to be watching and this has to show the dance studio's talent to him.

"Of course." The punk pockets the ticket, "Why wouldn't I support you?" He quips to prove his point because the pink haired boy truly should've seen this coming and he did last week but it had slipped his mind until now.

"I don't know." He smiles at his hands on the table, "Now you've got me all nervous."

The blonde's laughing now, "Don't be, it's not like I know anything about ballet." He's the least qualified person to judge someone's dancing, he doesn't even dance for fun. He'll go to clubs and drink but under no circumstance is he going to do some horrible dancing with his lack of rhythm.

"Yeah, but if I fall flat on my ass you'll know somethings not right." The dancer is smiling as he says it but he can recall a few times he's done what he's said in past recitals, especially when he was young, just learning how to pirouette. There were so many people falling, though, he was the least of the crowd's concerns.

Michael's hands fall to his phone when he hears it ding. Ashton's texting him purposely, he knows he's out with Luke but he still feels the need to send a text asking if he _needs anything from the sex store_ to which he texts him to bluntly _fuck off_.

"How did you and Ashton meet?" Luke is observing the way Michael clicks his phone off and sets it to the side again, a bit of a startled look from the boy. Did he see the text? Is that why he brought it up?

Luke sees his distress and clasps his hands, "I just thought since I told you about Calum and I, you could just-"

"Oh!" The boy says a little too relieved, situating himself as he squirms a little in the booth, the pressure is on him now and he has to think of how they met before he answers, "Well, I remember we met at dance, same studio that we still go to now, of course." He's swinging his legs back and forth under the table while sitting on his hands, "My dance instructor at the time was trying to help me socialize and be more open to other dancers because quite frankly I was an asshole to people who didn't keep up with me. She introduced me to Ashton, we were both eleven or so, and we instantly bonded."

His story comes to a halt when the milkshakes arrive at their table and Luke urges him to continue and pops the cherry decor on the top of the drink into his mouth.

"He not only kept up with my dancing but he also tolerated my blabber mouth so that instantly made him my friend. We've been stuck at the hip ever since." He realizes how strange it is that he met Ashton through a very bossy dance coach and he reminds himself to try and open up again to some of the primas because they hate him for being such a kiss up but also a great dancer. He should probably fix that.

"Cute." Luke comments on the story before he points at the strawberry milkshake presented in front of Michael, "Now sip." He's taking swigs threw the straw of his own shake at the same time he watches the ballerina timidly let himself try the drink, it tastes like any other milkshake, but he still smiles at the sweet taste.

"It's good." He decides after a couple seconds of testing it's taste, those blue eyes studying his face like he just insulted his entire namesake, "You have no appreciation towards milkshakes." The punk is already drinking his own down a quarter of the way, the boy shrugs, "Not a milkshake fan, hate to break it to you."

He feigns being hurt, "God, you really cut the knife deep with that one."

-

"The lovely couple has arrived." Hunter is arrogantly sprawled across the couch and his hand holds the remote while flipping through channels on the tv, three other members are gathered around the living room, Jack, Sam, and Christian all strolled in and out of the kitchen grabbing snacks and such while Luke only rolled his eyes, "Is Calum still at work?"

"He's running something down to Oliver for three grand, Ashton's driving to pick up some groceries." Christian buries his hand into a bowl of popcorn and tosses a handful into his mouth after he finishes his sentence.

"How was your date?" Jack pipes up the question that makes Michael shake his head, "It wasn't a date." He lets them know it but Luke only scrunches his eyebrows together.

"It wasn't?" He faces the ballerina who shrugs, "It didn't seem like one." His murmur of a statement makes the blonde scoff, "Sorry, it wasn't candlelit with rose petals everywhere, princess."

Michael's eyes roll back, "That's not what I meant, you just didn't hold my hand or kiss me or anything." His feet rock back and forth, his words only making the blonde brush off the conversation by entering the kitchen, he's skimming through the fridge when Hunter decides to start up a new topic.

"You two really went at it last night-"

"Shut it!" Luke warns from the other room, his voice raising to intimidate the group since he's well aware Michael's not a fan of their teasing.

"No, seriously, you really seemed to  _blow_  Luke away." Jack snorts at his own play on words and gets a fair amount of laughter from the guys, Michael's face burns red and he can't help but shake his hand and let the embarrassment show clear as day on his cheeks by prominently blushing.

They all died down their fits of giggles when the blonde stalked into the room and gave a swat to the back of Jack's head, beer bottle in hand as the cap was already clicked off, "I honestly need to move out, these walls are too thin." He swigs the alcohol and falls back into one of the open chairs.

Deep down, Michael wants to pipe up and say something about how his apartment is free of any annoying pests called roommates and that he has a very reserved solitude for just the two of them but he stops himself. It's way too soon to bring up moving in like that.

The front door swings open to reveal a very ecstatic Calum with four wads of cash stacked into one hand, he's smirking when he drops them all onto the laps of each gang member and enters the kitchen without any greeting or announcement to the group that's gawking over the amount of cash which just fell to their feet.

"Oliver gave me six grand instead, don't tell the other guys." He references to the fact he handed one thousand dollars to the guys who are home and not to the guys who are out of the house right now. Luke thumbs through the cash and gives a crossed expression to the brunette in the kitchen rummaging through the fridge for his leftovers, "Y'sure you don't wanna spend this on something for your boyfriend?"

They snicker and one of the guys makes a whip sound and motion, the maori only rolls his eyes. Michael knows that Ashton appreciates the things he buys him more than anything, the clothes, the new phone, everything he's ever given to him is treasured dearly from the bottom of that boy's golden heart.

"The last thing you bought him were those fancy dance shoes, how much did they cost?" Christian tosses a piece of popcorn into the air and catches it in his mouth.

The sound of the microwave opening and closing is heard and buttons are being pressed into it, Calum's humming in thought, "Eighty-something." He tries to ballpark the cost and shrugs, "You're just jealous I have someone to spoil while your lonely ass has to rely off of porn to get off." His comeback earns a loud ooh from Hunter and laughter from everyone else.

Luke is placing the cash inside his wallet that's full as can be, his hand tugs on Michael's wrist so he falls onto his lap with a squeak of a yelp only to laugh and position himself so he's comfortable.

"How many blowjobs do you think Ash gave Hood last week?" Christian points at a very surprised Michael, his cheeks burn under the pressure and attention, he doesn't know an exact number but Ashton isn't blunt in texts or snapchats of him just talking about whatever him and his boyfriend do. He's told him way too much that Calum doesn't know about. Like the different kinks they try out and the all too descriptive experiences with said kinks.

"Eight?" The boy attempts a guess that has heads turning to the punk with wide eyes awaiting an answer. His fingers count the number from this past week and he smirks, "Eleven." He corrects him.

"Holy shit, that's insane." Luke's eyes bulge and he gives a look of absolute bewilderment to his friend re-entering the room with his dinner on a paper plate. The maori only laughs, "Almost every time I see Ashton he misses me so we like to. . .rekindle the romance."

"I'm gonna throw up." Michael fakes a gag and sticks a finger into his mouth and his hips are being held by a very amused blonde, the maori sits on the couch and chews a forkful of leftover pasta. After staying in this house the dancer found out they basically never cook meals and just order food.

Luke's laugh is right next to his ear, joyful and light as he manages to go up an octave and squeaks through his chuckles, he lets his head rest against the boy's shoulders, "I'm dating Luke but you don't see me sucking his dick every time he picks me up from rehearsal."

"You two are an actual couple?" Calum grows confused and his lips part in surprise when they both nod and allow the guys here to sink in this new information. Hunter hums in thought, "I feel like we should've seen this coming."

"No we  _heard_  them coming." Jack smirks and all the guys laugh, except for the two being teased for their rather obnoxious sex last night, Christian even gives the guy a high five for his quality joke. Michael makes a mental note to just moan into the pillow from now on to prevent the guys from hearing anything. It's definitely worse being the couple getting teased, now he knows how Calum and Ashton feel.

"I must say, Michael, you're a lot louder in bed than I expected." Christian points at him from the couch and Luke's hand whips a pillow at his face to shut him up, if they talk about this for another minute Michael's gonna blush entirely red. This is the definition of embarrassing.

"What? If anything that's a compliment." Christian's hands grab some popcorn to eat and adds on with a mouthful of food, "No one wants a quiet person in bed."

"No one wants a voyeuristic loser spying on their roommates sex life." Luke shoots a glare to his close friend and Michael has to put a hand over his mouth to hide his laughing, the blonde's comeback striking deep into Christian's mind as he flips him off and angrily shoves more popcorn into his mouth.

"How was practice?" Jack switches the subject for the groups good, he sounds genuinely interested but the dancer feels like none of them are. It's not like they'll know what he's talking about. His shoulders bounce in a shrug, "Terrifying, I got yelled at once or twice but the show is gonna be great, Madame's just being the cranky bitch she is and telling us it's all wrong. Ashton did everything flawlessly, though. As usual."

"Hell yeah." Calum prides himself with a grin, "He should be home soon." His feet kick up onto the coffee table and his dirty combat boots are leaving splatters of mud on the surface, the pink haired boy isn't one to be messy so seeing someone do such a thing had him biting the inside of his cheek to fight back a comment on what Calum's doing.

Out of nowhere Luke's lips kiss just below his ear and pulls him close, rough hands holding him so gently as he takes this as an opportunity to rest his chin on the boy's shoulder and nibble at the exposed skin.

"No hickeys." Michael murmurs so only he can hear his instructions and Luke hums and rakes his teeth over his skin one last time.

It's hard not to mark him up, his skin is so flawless and fair, he has nothing but inches of smooth alabaster skin, he can't hold back the urge of sucking and biting at it so he can watch it turn red and purple against such a porcelain canvas.

"I saw Bryan driving up towards Hart Lane today, tried to get my hands on that son of a bitch but he bolted." Hunter grits his teeth and punches a firm fist into his own palm to emphasize his anger.

Michael only swallows his fear and anxiously eases his way into the conversation, "That's the street I live on."

Luke's hands aren't gentle anymore, he holds Michael tight like he's gonna get taken right this very second.

"Do you live in an apartment building?" Hunter cracks his neck and knuckles, ready to go whoop someone's ass.

"Yeah. It's grey and has like, a bunch of balconies for every room."

"Well, shit." Hunter stands and goes for the gun in his coat with anger in his eyes, "When he bolted he ran back into that building."

His heart plummets through the floor, he's losing any calming attitude inside of him when Hunter cocks his gun and reloads it so it's full, Luke has to pull him off his lap to stand with him, he's rushing for his jacket that's upstairs when Calum tells him to grab his, too.

It's comforting to know they're all helping and looking out for Michael, but it's terrifying that they need to look out for him in the first place. He's not even processing half of the information he just heard when Luke is padding down the stairs.

"Shoes on, sweetheart." He motions to the socks on Michael's feet and he freezes, completely and utterly petrified. He has to come too? That's just asking for Bryan to kill him on the spot.

He glances at his feet and then flickers back up to Luke, "Me?" He asks, Calum and Hunter triple checking they have what they need at the same time the punk nods.

"How else are we gonna get into your apartment?" Those blue eyes are slowly turning impatient and Michael has to shove his vans onto his feet and rush out onto their motorcycles, Luke's foot kicks the steel propping the motorcycle up off the ground and leads the way to where Bryan's waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *jaws theme plays* anywhooo this plot is starting to grow suspenseful and as always TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT!!! I'M A SUCKER FOR FEEDBACK LMAO


	8. turn it off

The confirmation from Hunter when they pull up to the apartment complex doesn't settle well in Michael's stomach. He's in there, they pointed out his car in the lot and it doesn't make the situation any less scarier when Luke is telling him to lead the way since they all have no idea where they're going. He digs his key out of his pocket and enters the lobby with a nervously shy smile on his tight lips.

"Long time no see, Michael." His favorite receptionist, the old lady, sits at her desk typing stuff into the computer, he gives her a warm grin, "How are you, Miss Robinson?" He watches the lady glance up from the computer and see him as well as three burly guys in leather jackets surrounding him and blinks, "I'm well, how are you?"

She's not hiding her fear on her face and Michael goes to reply when Calum pulls him towards the elevator, "No time to talk." He's steered to face the metal doors that slide open with a soft ding, it's luckily empty and he waves to Miss Robinson just as they step inside the small space and he clicks the floor 15 button and waits patiently as Luke slowly finds his hand beside him and slips their fingers together, a wordless don't worry of an action.

"Okay, I say we put Michael in there as bait, Luke and Hunter, you two beat Bryan's ass, I'll stay in the hallway and keep the coast clear so no one sees us drag an unconscious guy out of here." Calum cracks his neck as he says this and eyes the cameras in the corner of the elevator, "I'll make sure no one sees this." He shakes a spray paint can that he had pulled out of thin air and spritzed it over the lens to hide them from any security.

"I second that." Hunter raises a hesitant hand to vote and Luke slaps it down, "We can't use him as bait, Bryan could be armed, he'll put a gun to his head."

"If he had a gun, he would've pulled it on me this morning, dumbass." There's a glint in Hunter's dark brown eyes and he only straightens his posture, "Ballerina boy can handle himself, he could fucking dropkick Bryan's ass, he has the legs for it." The conversation ends at that.

Every level higher means one more  _oh no_ repeated in Michael's mind, he can't survive this, he's not fit for anything like this, he just wants to dance and this is what he gets? A stranger breaking into his apartment to try and torture him for Luke to stop his deal.

The doors open and he breaks himself away from the group and buries as much fear down as deep as he can before slipping the key into the lock and twists, a slow turn of the knob and he's anxiously stepping into the apartment.

The saddest part is that it doesn't feel safe in here, in his own home, it's colder and eery, things are so much scarier to him like turning the corner or just staring down a hallway.

He clutches the key in his hand like his life depends on it, the cool metal digs into his palm and reminds him he is not numb. This is real.

He steers his way into the living room and his whole body has to stagger into a halt at the sight of a man on his couch, he's made himself comfortable, feet crossed and kicked onto the coffee table, slouching back into the cushions as he leans his arms on the tops of it.

There's a smirk creeping onto his face and his eyes do a long and way too detailed once over of his body, the way Bryan stares at him makes his whole body go numb with fear. This isn't what he wanted. He's literal bait.

"About time, princess." He lifts himself off the couch- Michael's couch, actually- and he rubs his hands together with mischief in his eyes, "You've got a nice place, too nice to be hanging around someone as low as Luke." His whole mind shuts down with what he should say and he wants to say something but there's the sound of a gruff laugh interrupting him.

"Come on, have a seat, you must be so tired from dancing all day, hm?" He guides the boy with a hand on his back, the couch is uncomfortable but only because he has an actual gang leader stalking around it to watch as Michael's chest heaves for air and tries to hide his very prominent fear.

Bryan is about to say something when the door swings open again, it never shut in the first place but it still makes the pink haired boy jump from surprise and Bryan has to growl a few curses before he clasps a hand over Michael's mouth and sends his other hand to his shoulder to pin him down.

"You son of a bitch." Hunter laughs while he has his gun pulled out and aims it right at Bryan from across the room while Luke ambles his way in behind him with a vengeful look in his eyes, clenching his jaw as he sees the way he's holding Michael back.

"I wouldn't shoot if I were you." He smirks and points up to the ceiling, "They'll hear the gunshot." His words make Hunter glance at Luke, those blue eyes flickering from Bryan, to Michael, to Hunter, then nods at him to do as he says. The gun slowly falls down to his side and he clicks it so it's on safety mode.

"Anyway, Luke's little boytoy and I have gotten acquainted so let's move this along. Cut the price in half and he'll stay untouched." There's a slinking sound and then cool metal glints in his peripherals, a knife, the one that should be in his kitchen, he realizes after a few seconds before he stares at Luke for any form of help.

"I'll cut five grand but nothing more than that. We've been over this." The blonde is sick and tired of debating and going back and forth like this. All he's gotten over the last few months is just barely close to four grand and he needs sixteen more where that came from, eleven if they go by his discount.

"I can't give you what you want in six days, Hemmings, there's no way." He brings the knife closer to Michael and he tries to tell Luke to cut the price but it comes out as a muffled sentence. 

"Don't hurt him." The blonde rushes it out without thinking and he sounds so weak, so vulnerable, that it just shows how bad he doesn't want Michael hurt, and Bryan smirks. His whole face turns into mischief and he laughs gruffly.

"You have no idea how much someone's apartment can tell you about them." Bryan glances around and the two guys standing across from him follow his gaze as he continues, "Found out he keeps his emergency money in a shoe box in the back of his closet, two thousand dollars, actually. Daddy's money I suppose?" Bryan quips up the assumption to rile up Michael with anger and it works by the cold stare he gets from him as a response.

"Oh, wait, it can't be from your daddy, you haven't talked in two years judging by the unopened voicemails on the house phone." His knife is waved dangerously close to Michael's face while he laughs at the fact he's right.

"Is it because he doesn't like how his son is a panty-wearing pansy?" The way he says it is like this is all a big joke, as if Michael's personal life is a funny storyline to make a crowd laugh. The hand holding the knife trails down to his hip and he lets the metal glint one last time against the lighting, watches it in interest until he lets the cold metal slowly go under the seams of Michael's leggings, there's a soft gasp that's just barely heard through the hand over his mouth.

He managed to nip at his skin with the knife, just barely pricking at the skin below his hip and in the process of doing so, Bryan hooks the underwear Michael was wearing on the knife so it can be pulled up and shown to the group.

Michael winces when he sees all the eyes on him.

"Pink lace?" Bryan muses with the knife moving back up to keep the ball rolling, the panties still peek through his leggings on that one hip. When he finally tears his eyes open to pretend he's not embarrassed and terrified he sees Hunter with wide eyes and raised eyebrows at what he was wearing, flickering his gaze back to Luke after studying the panties and connecting the dots that Luke likes a guy who's feminine.

Hunter mouths a few words to the blonde, " _Not bad_."

Luke just about loses his damn mind at that, all the strings holding him back snap and break and he steals the gun from Hunter's hand, shuts the safety off and just barely misses Bryan's head as he goes for the lamp behind him.

"Jesus Christ, man!" Hunter takes the pistol back and stares at the blonde with an appalled expression, full on pissed off over what he just did. "Do you _want_ to get arrested? This isn't the same neighborhood that we have at home, this place actually cares about safety, and a gunshot? Not exactly an everyday thing."

"He's right." Calum is storming into the apartment now, abandoning his post in the hall in favor of shoving the blonde's shoulders so he can stand in the center of conversation, eyeing the scenario with stone cold brown eyes, he meets Michael's gaze and the tears welling in his wide, beady eyes (the gunshot scared him, so did everything else).

Something inside of Calum switches after he sees the boy held at gunpoint and he turns angry at the flip of a coin noticing the state of agony Michael's in. A desperate muffled yelp goes indecipherably into the air and Bryan holds the knife closer to his face.

"Give me the gun." He holds an empty, upturned palm towards Hunter, the worker hesitates even though it's an order, an apprehensive determination holds him back as he shakes his head, "Calum, you can't just-"

" _Give me_  the  _gun_." He tenses as he says it and his eyes never leave from Bryan's figure, his jaw is clenching tight enough to snap. It's not long until the gunshot is reported and sending police their way. He can't waste a single second.

The pistol lands in his hand, it's matte black and Michael's terrified of how easily Calum can handle it with just one hand that's lazily wavering the weapon as he aims.

"Breathe, Calum." The blonde has to speak and break the silence and Michael finally feels enough tears well in his eyes that one slips down and hits his cheek. Bryan puts the knife against his throat. He holds his breath.

"He won't do it." Bryan's still laughing over the situation, he finds this all so darkly humorous as he shakes his head, "Hasn't killed someone since Mali died. She wouldn't be proud if you killed me, you don't wanna make your sister sad, do you?"

There's an even angrier look crossing his features and Calum's hand strains as he takes that remark and brushes past it.

"She's dead, Calum. She's dead because of you." Bryan hisses it out because he knows that one just hurts the most, he's getting the response he wants from him, the way he's resisting.

Those deep brown eyes flash with ferocity and he loses it with glossy eyes and a heavy heart. Michael knows that something had happened to his sister but these little dots are starting to connect and show the sad puzzle that's coming together.

"Don't listen to him, Calum." Luke seethes, "Shoot."

There were three gunshots. A heavy thump of a body hitting the floor. Michael's broken crying. Then Calum's hands dropping the gun and collapsing onto the floor to cry too. Luke has to help Hunter drag the dead body out. They leave the two of them alone in Michael's apartment breaking down in their own separate ways. 

Neither of them bother to speak for the first three minutes, they're both too busy trying to collect themselves and Michael happens to do it sooner than the punk on his living room floor. His heavy head is in his hands and he's falling apart at the seams, shaking his head as he buries his hands in his hair then tugs at the curls.

The pink haired boy finally stands on shaky legs, softly shuffling over to the other side of the coffee table and lightly sitting on his knees to be level with Calum.

"Was she nice?" He places a comforting hand on top of Calum's knee, sadly Ashton's not here so he'll have to be the person to help him right now. He can't just let him cry in his apartment without anyone to lean on.

Calum sniffles, nodding as he pulls two clammy hands down his tear streaked face, "Yeah." He clears his throat and nods, "She was."

"Do you wanna tell me what happened?" He scoots a little closer and raises his eyebrows to try and irk him to talk about it, that's how people feel better when they're grieving. It's worse to hold it all back.

Calum bites down on his cheek and glances at Michael for a split second only to look away right after, his thumbs fumble together in his lap and he sniffles again, "Ashton never told you?" He seems surprised about this and honestly, Michael is too.

The gentle shake of his head and meek "No." that falls from his lips makes the brunette sigh.

His head turns to check that the door was shut and made sure no one else would hear him being so open and vulnerable, "We used to live together, when we were really young. Our parents didn't take care of us so we took care of ourselves. She worked so much to just barely make ends meet every month for rent and I felt so bad, I wanted to pitch in, too. So, Luke and I, he was living with us at the time, we got into dealing and I would pay rent every other month and Mali got to work less." Calum rubs his eyes to try and stop himself from crying again.

"She found out a couple months after we started and she was so mad at me, she told me what I was doing was wrong and that if I needed a job she could've gotten me one herself." A cough comes out so he doesn't get choked up, his throat tightens anyway, "But I'd keep on doing it, because the  _only_  thing she didn't want to come out of this was me getting hurt or hurting someone else."

Michael feels the puzzle pieces starting to connect a little and there's a stray tear trailing down Calum's puffy face as he tries to blink back the next round of them.

"One night, I was walking home with Luke and when we got to the apartment, one of the guys from a gang was holding Mali at gunpoint." He stops staring at the ceiling because it's no use, he's already crying again, his eyes meet the fair green ones beside him and he shakes his head, "She was so scared, I didn't know what to do because Luke and I were just dealing with other teenagers and maybe a couple older guys here and there. They kept on clicking the gun on and off of safety to remind us that they could kill her whenever they feel like it." 

"I only had a shitty pistol that we usually used for safety in our house and when I aimed it at the guy, Mali told me not to shoot. She said she doesn't want me to do anything wrong and that I'm better than this." He kicks an angry foot at the pistol on the floor, "She always was one of the few nice people in this shitty neighborhood, and she never liked violence, so I listened to her but they killed her right after I dropped my gun."

Calum has tears in his eyes but he clenches his jaw to grit his teeth, "I watched my sister die, and Luke had to run and catch the fucker who killed her while I just held her and kept crying."

-

Michael is back in his apartment later that night, Luke stays with him for protection and just some company to keep him from going literally insane after seeing a dead body. He's been purposely avoiding the living room and has been cooking his dinner in the kitchen for the last thirty minutes.

"You bought this place?" The blonde is subtly impressed by how nice the apartment is inside and out, numerous rooms and expensive decor and the best part- no roommates. It's like heaven for Luke, minus the lack of junk food.

"Yup, d'you like it?" He starts to strain the pasta he had been boiling for awhile now. The vodka sauce he's cooking for it is on the stove and he stirs it a little bit.

"I think I love it." He steers himself around the island and snakes two arms around Michael's waist, ducking his head down to rest his chin on the top of his head, "No one can hear us have sex in here, right?"

"Not one person." The pink haired boy feels the suddenly tighter grip of his back getting pulled into Luke's chest, "Then I definitely love it."

They both worked together to finish the meal and Luke may have devoured three bowls in one hour since it was just  _so_  good and he was  _so_  hungry. It's both delicious and fulfilling and it flatters Michael to know his cooking isn't shit.

After a long time of flipping through channels and trying to find something to watch, Luke groans and gives up, "You don't have any good channels."

"I never get to sit and watch tv all day." The pink head of hair peers around the kitchen bar to point at a compartment under the tv, "I have movies down there, just pick one you like." He returns to the dishwasher where he's loading all of the dirty bowls and silverware from today's meal. He closes it with a click and sets it to start when he hears the familiar accompaniment start to play from the living room and instantly heads towards it.

His head shakes when he sees the familiar video playing on the flatscreen, one of his performances from last spring.

"No, no no, Luke turn it off." He's reaching for the remote control when the blonde only holds it out of his reach, he mentally curses their height difference.

"Which one are you?" He smirks and nods at the screen where Michael gives a groan of exasperation, "Luke, give it!" The blonde laughs and watches the stubborn dancer throw a tantrum right in front of him.

"What? It's cute." He watches the screen and Michael is full on embarrassed as he sees himself clear as day performing with two other primas.

"I was horrible, don't watch it." The green in his eyes is bright from desperation and all the punk does is smile, "You're doing great." His hand gestures out to the dancers on the tv and he cringes.

"I'm one beat ahead and my one foot isn't pointed- that wasn't even the right position!" He picks out every flaw and not only is it shocking but it's disheartening for Luke to see the way Michael tears his own dancing apart. He's like a mini Madame.

"Then fix it." The blonde encourages him with a smile, "Show me what it should've looked like." He presses the rewind button and lets the tape work it's way back to the beginning. A very hesitant Michael is shaking his head and taking his vans off just to throw on his nearest pointe shoes.

"You're unbelievable." The dancer smiles at the floor at the same time Luke takes a very comfortable seat on the couch, spreading his legs and bringing both of his hands to rest on the top of the couch after pressing play.

The recognizable music is soft at first, and Michael can feel nervousness start to swarm in his stomach until he hears his queue and goes en pointe, the blue eyes across the room are somehow darker than before, his smile is now a smirk and he locks eyes with Michael.

He spins and laughs at himself when he sees the blonde raise his eyebrows from how impressive that was to him. Michael flows through the song effortlessly, last year was one of his worst, his dancing needed so much work, he remembers how tough the routine was for him but right now, the routine seems easy as can be.

Luke wolf whistles by the end of it and Michael has to bite back a way too irresistible smile that flashes anyway, "You liked that?" He laughs and starts to saunter his way around the coffee table, the blonde does a once over of the dancer's body (his ass, more specifically) and smirks, "Hell yeah, I did."

The pink haired boy hums in thought and lifts his knees onto the couch so he straddles the punk, dark amber eyes burning into the devious blue ones, "Well, you're gonna love this." He slides a hand up Luke's chest and helps him shrug off his leather jacket.

Slowly, Michael leans in and locks their lips to taste the blonde's tongue, he guides Luke's hands so they find his ass and gets the blonde to moan and squeeze at his bum. He swivels his hips and grinds down against the blonde's crotch.

After one hand slides under Luke's shirt, Michael buries a hand in the punk's hair and earns another moan from grinding against him. He has Luke's hands sliding the leggings he wore down far enough that just his ass is on display, the cool air hits his skin only to be covered by Luke's warm, calloused hands. He kneads at the flesh of his bum and Michael pulls apart from their kiss to suck a love bite into his exposed neck.

"Fuck," Luke finally gets a full view of the panties Michael has been wearing and his dick twitches at the sight, it's the pink lace ones he saw a sneak peek of earlier from Bryan's teasing but the whole set makes his jaw go slack and a groan slips out. They fit his ass perfectly, they're small on him and accentuate every curve, the light pink color vivid and bright against his porcelain skin, he almost wants to tear them off and fuck him but at the same time he wants to look at his ass in them all night.

Luke is hard now, Michael's taking up his thoughts from the kissing, the grinding, the panties, it all consumes him and he's so sensually overwhelmed that he doesn't even hear the sound of keys fumbling, or a faint conversation from behind the door.

Or were they inside?

"Holy shit!" They were inside, and Luke acts on reflex and pushes Michael onto the couch next to him so he's not straddling his thighs anymore. The ballerina has to hastily pull his leggings back up and the punk places his leather jacket over his crotch to cover his very obvious boner.

Of course, even with this apartment being for one person, people still manage to stop by at the worst times.

"Ashton, don't tell the guys." Michael whines into a throw pillow out of embarrassment because that voice obviously was his best friend's and the only way he could've gotten in was because he has Michael's spare key.

"Oh, we're here too." Jack is joining the conversation lowly, "Were those panties?"

In order to respond Michael groans into his pillow and ignores what he asked him to scold Ashton instead, "Why are you here?" His eyes peel up from the pillow he was hiding his face in and catches mostly all eyes on him while some of the guys observed his apartment in an awestruck look.

"Hemmings wasn't answering his phone." Christian glares at the punk who rolls his eyes in response, "I was busy."

Calum smirks, "Busy fucking your boyfriend?" He smugly remarks and earns a few snickers and chuckles as the dancer locks eyes with a very amused Ashton.

"Ashton, tell your  _daddy_  to stop scrutinizing my boyfriend." He uses the pet name to push some buttons and it works when the maori cranes his neck to stare at his own boyfriend.

The curly haired boy sighs and bites his lip before he places a familiar tote bag on the ground, "I brought your clothes back, since you're staying here again." He mumbles it and the tension dissipates with the sound of his sad voice. He's disappointed.

"Ash," He pouts and the dancer only shrugs and taps the side of the bag lightly with his foot to feign interest in it.

"Hemmings, y'staying here or what?" Dillon is gawking at the flatscreen and the fact Michael has an actual dishwasher and not hands that are used to clean every dish.

There's a moment where the blonde has to wonder the same thing, sharing a look with Michael that shows he has no idea and kind of wants to but if Michael doesn't want him here he'll leave. The dancer raises his eyebrows, silently telling him he wouldn't mind at the same time Luke faces his friends again.

"I mean, I should probably keep him company, just in case someone tries to break in." He tries to give some support to his reasoning but honestly he just really wants to make out with his boyfriend without any type of interruption from his dickhead roommates.

Dillon heads for the door with a lazy wave of goodbye at the same time Jack tosses his keys in his hands as he follows suit, Christian and Calum share equally unsubtle looks of amusement over him truly just wanting to fuck his boyfriend, Hunter sends him a wink and a _see ya boss man_ , and all Ashton does is give a gentle grin before catching up with Calum down the hall.

"Now," Luke places a hand on the inside of Michael's thigh, "Where were we?"

-

The blonde falls onto the mattress beside him, the warmth of their post-sex bodies leaves them only covered up to the waist with sheets, a just as exhausted Michael is currently trying to recover from his third climax of the night and Luke genuinely feels like he's drained of sex energy- which is saying a lot considering he's almost always down to fuck. They managed to do it on the couch, in the kitchen and the finale occurred just now in bed, all different positions.

"I know, I'm like, a dancer, and I work out practically everyday," He pants through his sentences, "But you really tire me out." His hands hurt from gripping the sheets so tight and his cheeks are flushed red on the sides as his whole body rolls onto one side.

"I'm not gonna be able to walk." He realizes secondly, a pout on his lips as he shuts his eyes and imagines what tomorrow morning will be like.

"I'll take that as a compliment." The punk finally replies with a smirk and brings the ballerina closer to him so their chests are flush together, "You could always call in sick." He coaxes him with those big blue eyes and for the first few seconds Michael's appalled he ever considered that an option but he may actually be in pain if he tries to run through rehearsal tomorrow.

"I could," He gnaws on his own lip out of worry and the entire situation feels way too relaxing for him, he places a chaste kiss on Luke's lips. The hands on his back slide down so they're in the dip of his back.

Luke hums, "If you do, morning sex may ensue." He winks at the same time Michael snorts, "We'll see." His eyes flutter shut and a very soft snoring fills the room as they both doze off to bed.

-

There's a very subtle scent of syrup and bacon that wafts it's way into Michael's room, but when Luke wakes up, the ballerina is gone and the faint noise of pop music is playing in the distance, he lays there for a few minutes, he listens to the sizzle of a grittle and the barely noticeable hums that Michael does to the music. After awhile of basking, he shuffles out of bed to see what's for breakfast. He slips on his boxers and makes a note to keep some of his clothes here if he plans on staying the night more often.

By the time he steers into the kitchen and sees Michael, he has woken up quite significantly, his eyes open up a lot more and the murkiness in his vision has effaced. So when he sees his boyfriend cooking in just a pair of white panties and one of _his_ t-shirt's, the view is incredibly clear.

"You wake up so late." Michael laughs and keeps his back facing him because he knew Luke was coming down the hall when he heard his bedroom door open and shut. A sleepy yawn falls from the blonde's lips and he eyes the clock on the wall- 11:21 am.

"Did you call in sick?" He wonders why the ballerina isn't off dancing at rehearsal and the boy nods to answer his question, flipping a pancake so it's nice and golden on one side. The song playing in the background switches to a very old Kesha song.

"Madame was very upset but once I told her I was  _insanely_  nauseous she seemed to understand." His explanation makes Luke give a breathy laugh and steps up so he's able to wrap his arms around his waist, watching how he cooks and pops a freshly cut strawberry into his mouth.

"I could get used to this." The punk never slept in a bed as comfy as Michael's and he slept like a baby under those sheets. This entire apartment is a new experience to him, it's the complete opposite of his house downtown.

"You are more than welcome to stay here any day of the week." The ballerina turns around and holds a strawberry up to Luke's lips as an offering and the blonde graciously opens his mouth so he can feed it to him.

"Sometimes I forget you've never lived like this." Michael speaks his mind with such a pitiful tone that Luke almost feels offended but he's truly more grateful than offended.

Michael saw it in the gang's response to visiting Luke last night. They all gawked at his apartment and his way of life as opposed to their cramped house that's falling apart at the seams in a sketchy neighborhood. They only have one tv for eight people and Michael's over here with three throughout his entire place.

"I want to someday." The blonde finally finishes chewing his food and shrugs, "Why do you think I'm so deadset on getting twenty grand? I've been saving everything I could for months to try and get out of my house." 

"What would you do? After you leave?" Softly, Michael brushes a thumb across the blonde's cheek and waits to hear his response. It's not going to be easy to find a new job after something so different from ordinary careers.

Luke never really thought of leaving the gang, they're his family at this point and his whole world revolves around them and what they do.

"I don't know. Maybe finish high school online or something." His words cause an instant reaction.

"You never graduated?" Michael's voice squeaks from shock and he watches the shrug he does to concur. He only shakes his head, "Go grab some plates." He switches the subject by pointing towards a cupboard, the punk slides two plates out and onto the counter for Michael to place their breakfast on.

"Since you and the guys never really live this way, I was thinking they could come over for dinner?" He doesn't mean to make it a question but the rising inflection in his voices causes it to. He's carrying his own plate over to the bar he has and scoots himself up onto a stool to eat.

"Nuh-uh, no eating on the couch." The dancer scolds Luke from across the room as if he's his mother and the groan he gets in response only makes him sigh, "You and your friends need to be better at some household manners. When was the last time you guys had an actual home cooked meal?"

There's no answer because Luke can't even recall back far enough, his mind only thinks of Mali cooking mac and cheese every Tuesday since that was her day off of work.

"Exactly. Bring them all here for dinner after my recital next week. We're gonna cook."

-

It's been a very productive day in rehearsal on Wednesday. His sheer tutu bounces with every little strut he does when walking over to his bag for another swig of water. Naomi is massaging her ankles on the side, Ashton has joined them to just observe his friends' work.

"I overheard Julia this morning, she wants to complain to the company about Calum being on the premise. Apparently she saw you two doing it in the supply closet." Naomi mocks the last part in a high pitched voice. Julia was a prima but got kicked off for slacking.

Ashton rolls his eyes, "That was one time. Besides, she so clearly hooks up with Adam after rehearsal." Adam is Ashton's dance instructor- he's young but still too old for nineteen year old Julia to be flirting with. He's not ugly, though, definitely nice on the eyes.

"I thought I was the only one who noticed that." Naomi gasps in appreciation at the same time the door to the rehearsal room swings open and Luke is standing in the entrance, Madame's hand holding him by the back collar of his jacket and shirt. There's a new mood that takes their positivity and throws it out of the window. Their faces fall with fear and Luke is so obviously guilty. The sad smile on his face says it all.

"Michael." Madame lets go of the punk just to send the blonde into the room with a shove. It's not aggressive but it does make him listen. Her lips purse, "I don't even know where to begin with this."

"Madame, he's just a friend." Michael lies and he sees the hurt cross over Luke's face hearing him say that, he knows he has to lie but that doesn't make it any less painful.

"He was talking to some other hooligan about taking you on a _date_." She says the last word like it's never supposed to be said, grimacing in disgust as she takes in Luke's appearance, "I want the truth and I want it now, Michael, are you two dating?"

He glances at the blonde who seems embarrassed as can be in this situation, his eyes are pleading for him not to lie because then he'll be mad at him. But if he tells the truth Madame will yell at him and kick him off of the primas.

Michael's heart is pounding throughout his whole body, his eyes gloss over with tears that he really doesn't want to let fall, "Yes, Madame, we are. But I swear, I'm committed to dancing more than him, I-I've been doing amazing in your class while dating him, he's not a burden to my success."

"How long has this been going on?" She muses the question that makes his whole body flush cold and he rocks back and forth on his feet still wrapped in his ballet shoes.

"A month. Maybe two." His head hangs low because a tear slips out and he doesn't want anyone to see, his shoulders hiccup with his trembling movements. "I'm so sorry." He shakes his head in his own disapproval, "I know you want to kick me off the primas but it's not like he's distracting me, if anything he helps me and I-I just-"

"Michael." She stops him before he can ramble any further, "I'm so disappointed in you."

Another tear falls but this time it finds it's way to the floor, his bottom lip quivers as her body steps forward, past Luke who wants so badly to go over to Michael and just hold him while he cries, try to soothe him or give him the company he needs.

"You have been such a good prima," Madame's hand lifts his head up with two fingers tapping his chin, the pale, amber eyes of his falter and refuse to meet Luke's baby blue ones, he's faced with a very upset Madame instead. "You were one of my favorites, too."

The past tense she's using makes his lips part open slowly and Naomi is shaking her head from the side of the room, she's just as terrified as he is.

"Don't kick him off." The punk speaks out of nowhere, stepping into the conversation, his hands dig into his leather jacket pockets and he shakes his head, "Michael is an incredible dancer, he cares so much about what he does and without a doubt, it's his number one priority. If you kick him off it'll be a huge mistake because he is one hell of a dancer and anyone would be lucky to teach him." 

There's a long string of silence, Michael tries to hold back his tears and feels himself falling deeper in love with Luke. No one's ever talked about his dancing that way. 

Madame steps back, her body pivots and she heads for the door with a straight face, graceful strides as she brushes past Luke and speaks, "Fine, he can stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the hiatus school is my number one priority but this is my second!! leave some comments on what you thought please :)


	9. just walk home

There's absolute chaos, full on catastrophic nightmares occurring backstage because the curtain is set to rise in three minutes. Michael has to keep rolling his ankles and craning his neck from side to side to loosen his tense muscles because this isn't a half-assed production. They're one of the top dance schools in Sydney, there's literally two dance coaches from The Australian School of Ballet in the audience and if that's not reason enough to stress every dancer here, Michael also saw Luke and his gang sitting two rows behind his parents. 

That part kind of makes him want to throw up. Luke doesn't even know they're here, let alone that close to him. It slipped past his mind to tell him and now he has to suffer the consequences. 

"One minute. Places, dancers." A set worker ushers them to the stage as they hear applause from the crowd as Madame walks onto the stage in front of the closed curtain and starts introducing the dancers. 

Michael has to force himself to stop stretching and does a few deep breaths just as the curtain draws open. The lights flash on, he can see Naomi in his peripheral vision and if he really focused long enough he'd catch Ashton watching him from backstage to his right. The intro music hums through the speakers and a soft hush falls over the crowd. It's packed full. His stomach knots from nervousness. 

Once his cue is heard he joins into the choreography, falling under the spell of it mercilessly, an all too calming feeling that helps him relax in seconds. He shuts his eyes and pretends like this is just rehearsal, the only eyes on him are from his peers and his coach. Without anything worrying him he nails his fouetté turns and perfects his landing on his pointe toes. 

He can see tiny red lights blinking in the audience and instantly remembers that parents and other family members are taking videos of this performance and the ones to come. 

Being back on stage is both relieving and terrifying, he can imagine what the TABS scouts are writing down about him- dazes off, never looks at the crowd, oddly wearing a tutu. He can imagine Luke's eyes on him out of all the other dancers on stage. His tutu bounces with him when he leaps in synch to the ballerinas around him and the audience claps appreciatively at the short solo moment a girl gets during that time. 

By now he's nearly lost in the music, tiptoeing across the stage in an all too easy wave of serenity. This is what he loves to do. This is his passion. Nothing can get better than this. He weaves his way through the dancers and into the spotlight his lips curve into a barely noticeable grin as he pulls off an expertly perfect tour jeté. He hears cheering and meets a stare with Naomi who seems just as accomplished too. 

Michael can't imagine what he'd be doing other than dancing. 

-

Ashton nails his solo. Hell, he gets a standing ovation because he finally applied himself to be one hundred percent perfect from start to finish. Michael is both in awe and jealous. How is he supposed to follow up to that? 

As the curly haired boy slips backstage they exchange smiles and he whispers a meek break a leg to Michael who tells him how amazing he just did. The girls crowding behind him agree in a collective nod. 

As the crowd dies down and the lights dim he scurries into his spot and takes one more soothing breath, gives the set worker a cue to start the song and lifts onto the very tips of his feet. This is it. The one time the TABS scouts are gonna focus on him and only him. They're going to critique him from the very beginning to the very end. This determines if he gets into his dream school with a scholarship or not. 

The song starts. His whole mind goes into it's trance and when he shuts his eyes it's like he's practicing at the dance school all over again, a very awestruck Luke is leaning against the mirror and watching him. No one else. Him and Luke. 

When he does his arabesque he gets applause and it turns into an avalanche of clapping and surprised oh's when he does his pirouettes in perfect timing to the song. Twelve spins later and all eyes are under his spell. It's what he does best after all. 

Numerous of choreographed dance moves later and he's falling his effacé and the music dies down to signify he finished. There's a few claps, then more, then people rising to their feet and he all but cries from the familiar sense of accomplishment. He smiles so wide his jaw hurts and his eyes blur from the tears that well in them, he can see Madame clapping poshly backstage when he saunters his way off stage. 

-

Luke is there in the main lobby of the theatre holding a bouquet of way too overly priced white roses. The pink ones were sold out and it ticked him off because that's Michael favorite and it would match his hair. But whatever, white roses will do. 

Michael has to rush through his conversations with his mum and grandparents and gives a hold on signal to Luke among the crowd. They are throwing compliments at him and his whole face goes beet red by the end of it. His grandma coos about how beautiful he looked and it's just the icing on the cake as he thanks them repeatedly. He stutters out a lie and says he needs to use the bathroom and they are weaving their way through the crowd. Before he moves for the blonde he makes sure they're out the door and then he's jumping up to hug a very proud Luke. 

"Baby, you were amazing." He kisses the top of his head after saying it and they separate so he can hand the bouquet to him with a shy smile. Michael's never seen Luke get all timid so this new side has him pouting out of fondness and clutching the roses close to his chest. 

"You didn't have to." 

"I wanted to." Luke assures him, a hand on the ballerina's shoulder, "Besides, I had to one-up Calum, he got Ashton a rose." His head tilts to gesture at the way too horny couple already making out in the very packed reception area. 

The other guys are very impressed and giving the two dancers compliments with actual smiles on their faces. It's weird, but Michael feels like he could get used to this. They actually respect him for more than being their boss' boyfriend. 

"Heard you're cooking for us tonight." Hunter is attempting be smug as he says this and his eyes trail over the crowd. His stare trails to a specific person in particular and Michael's about to ask him who he's looking at when Naomi is appearing beside him to hug his body from the side. 

They release from the hug weakly, his legs and arms are killing him. Her eyes are bright despite being so drained, "You were incredible. My parents loved your solo." She grins at him and he blushes, shaking his head. 

When his head raises he catches Hunter's eyes raking up and down Naomi's figure and smiles, "Have you met Hunter? He's Luke's friend." He turns to face the guy and she follows suit with a curious expression and a very noticeable smile. 

"Hunter this is Naomi. Naomi, Hunter." His hands gesture between them. 

Luke stands behind his frame, kissing his neck and snaking his hands around his waist, "You ready to head out?" He has to speak into his ear since the lobby is packed full, barely even retaining most of what he said, Michael nods after catching the gist. 

They have to worm their way through the crowd and the very frail dancer is very confused from how tall everyone around him is so Luke is his sight and steers him to and fro the lobby. His head whips side to side trying to keep track of who he sees and gets waves from other dancers and primas he knows. 

"Excuse me, Michael, is it?" The voice is poised and very clearly feminine, his eyes try to find the person speaking to him and stops dead in his tracks when his eyes land frighteningly fast on the lady a foot or two away from him, portfolio in hand. 

"Yes, hi." He stammers and Luke's still behind him with skeptical blue eyes taking in her outfit of a pantsuit and decently high heels. She has black hair that's greying and glasses perched on her petite nose.  

"Wonderful performance, what class are you in again?" 

"Prima, miss."

"Very impressive work up there, me and my associate were fascinated by your technique." She rummages through the portfolio and hands him a dense packet, "We'd like you to be in the auditions this year." 

-

Back at his apartment with the gang and Ashton, Michael is still smiling so wide his mouth hurts while Luke focuses on plating some of the finished sides like mashed potatoes, carrots, and corn. The roasted chicken in the oven wafts throughout the small vicinity and has all the guys at the table whining that they're hungry. The dancer slips an oven mitt on and slides the biscuits out of the oven.

"Babe, I'm grabbing a new shirt this one's done for." The blonde points at the flour and other miscellaneous ingredients that fell onto his shirt in the process. Michael's the genius who wore a little apron and even offered him one but he refused. 

His lips narrow to hum an okay and the footsteps shuffle down the hall to grab a spare from Michael's dresser drawers. He's surprised they aren't moved in here yet but Luke claims it's not the right time to leave the boys just yet. 

It makes sense. He's attached onto them for so long that he clearly doesn't want to leave their sides. Those guys are his brothers at this point, he can't walk out of that house so easily. Most of the time he just stays the night to test out the feeling of living with Michael. 

He gets extra protective at night, more than usual. He's naturally a light sleeper and if Michael has to use the bathroom in the middle of the night he stirs awake and asks him if he's okay. The worst is when there's a noise of someone walking down the main hall or drunk girls coming back from the clubs late at night causing way too much noise out in the hall. Luke always jolts awake and holds Michael closer, he has to reach for his coat that holds his gun and Michael relaxes him by kissing the punk's forehead and playing with his hair until he falls back asleep. 

He finishes up cutting the chicken and plates everything on his dinner table, he folds up his apron, stashes it away, and sighs. 

"Where's Luke?" He asks the group who already started to pick what they wanted but already understood to wait until everyone is served to eat. Michael may or may not have lectured them on that. 

Calum gives a shrug and murmurs, "I'on'know" while the guys all collectively second his statement. He's still picking out a shirt, so the pink haired boy ventures down his own hallway and into his bedroom with a timid grin. Luke is in a new shirt, one of his favorites actually. He's admiring what's splayed out on the bed and Michael's eyes bulge in fear. 

"Shit, ignore all of that." He scurries past him, he was organizing his drawers and stumbled upon a full lingerie set he bought forever ago when Ashton gave him two hundred dollars to spoil himself for his birthday. He forgot to put it away and his face heats up when Luke stares at him with a smug little smirk. 

"Were you gonna wear that sometime?" The blonde raises an eyebrow in invitation for him to do what he wants. Michael stares at the red lace panties, matching knee high socks, and garters. 

"I was gonna try it on." He tells him the truth with a mad blush on his cheeks. 

The blonde is lowly laughing and shrugs, "You could always model it for me." 

"Let's eat first." He manages to leave Luke dumbfounded while they walk back to the dining table, he can hear the man curse under his breath and follow him like a lost puppy. Now he's left to wait for it. What a tease. 

The table cheers when they re-enter. Practically devouring every last crumb and going for seconds right after they clean off their plate. They look like pigs and Luke finds way too much amusement in Michael's reaction, even Ashton seems appalled. 

"Babe," Ashton scolds Calum with his feet kicking his shin from under the table, the maori glances up from where he had ducked down to spoon way too much mashed potatoes into his mouth.

His mouth is full when he replies, "What?" 

He gets a glare sent his way and Ashton has to reach across the table to swipe his thumb over the corner of Calum's lips, the food missed his mouth a tad bit. 

Normally, the guys would tease them for doing something so lovey-dovey but they stayed too immersed with the food on their plates to comment. 

By the time twenty minutes pass, they've all calmed down into just a few of them eating, Christian's eyes land on Luke's and he smirks, "He's a keeper." Fumbles from his lips and swigs the beer he's already gotten halfway through.

The blonde glances at Michael to see his reaction and he's blushing down at his lap with his teeth raking over his bottom lip to suppress a smile. 

"Yeah, I know." He swigs the water in front of him to wash down his meal, his hand goes under the table to slip inside Michael's thigh, his rough hands smooth over his leggings. Only making the boy blush three times deeper. 

"D'you see Hunter flirtin' with that pretty dancer? Practically drooled on her." Dillon starts up a conversation that everyone buzzes into, Ashton seems confused. 

Michael catches him up on the situation, "While you were shoving your tongue down Calum's throat, Hunter and Naomi hit it off." 

"You're kidding." The curly haired boy parts his lips in shock, "Naomi's way out of your league!" 

He looks at Hunter who's nodding with a proud smirk, "Still got her number, though." 

Michael's known Naomi since he joined the primas a year ago and honestly, she's not the most reliable for a committed relationship. She tries but it never goes anywhere past sex and a few dates. But he won't mention that just yet, the guys are congratulating Hunter on his success. 

Everyone except for Ashton and Calum had left by nine at night, an eagerly awaiting Luke constantly taps his foot impatiently at the same time Michael only continues discussing things with Ashton. He's not gonna be rude or pushy and force them out but he's reaching the brink of insanity knowing there's a very sexy lingerie outfit waiting for them in the bedroom.

"Hood, shouldn't you head out?" Luke eyes the door to hint at the brunette leaving, the couple is tangled together on the couch with their stupid dirty talk that they think he can't hear but he very much can. Whispering is nothing compared to how close they are. 

"Shouldn't you shut up?" The brunette spits it out jokingly and not so subtly grabs at Ashton's ass, "Trying to make out with my boyfriend here." He groans and flips him onto the couch so he hovers over a flustered head of curls, those hazel eyes are dilated and he looks way too horny to even bother interrupting. 

He gets a hold of Michael's hand and swings their bodies up from the couch, "That's it." He decides for himself that he is not gonna try any more, this is just how it'll be, "Let's go in your room." He mutters it and gets one last look at Ashton and Calum making out to remind him that although they're not alone, he won't have to worry about either of them paying attention to the world outside of their relationship. 

The solitude of the bedroom makes Luke only moan as Michael instantly slips his shirt off and starts to get undressed, he clicks the door shut and locks it so he knows no one will interrupt them. When the petite boy of his is working his leggings down his legs, his ass on full display when he slips into just his panties. 

He feels his bulge chafe in his skinny jeans, unable to stop himself when he lets his hands find Michael's thighs for handles to lever their bodies closer, the dancer falls into his chest with a gasp. 

"Gonna put on that pretty lace for me, sweetheart?" His lips find the skin above Michael's collarbone and trails hot open-mouthed kisses up to his mouth that's parted in lustfilled bliss. 

"Mhm." He slipped out of his grip and rushed for the lingerie on the bed then scurried his way into his connected bathroom to change. 

-

It's an entirely too busy work day for Luke, he has four guys out running deals and Calum's trying to take the newbies out on a run for experience and practice, his phone's been ringing all day for people placing orders and he's booked solid with customers coming in to grab their shipments. 

There's a hectic buzz throughout the warehouse and he's hopping from place to place situating all the newbies and giving plans to runners for orders. The loud target practice happening in the basement is muffled below their feet. 

"I was thinkin' about hittin' the bar for some beers later." Sam slings an arm over Luke's shoulder to lean into his personal space, "You in?" 

"Promised Michael I'd pick him up from dance." He murmurs it at the same time he counts the cash he just earned for a deal. He thumbs past each twenty and counts in his head. 

"Come on, man, unwind." Sam presses, his laugh deep and very present in his sentence. Luke has no idea who Sam thinks he is, but he's not one to bail. 

"I can't. I'm picking him up at four." He shakes his head and secures a band around the wad of cash, slipping it into his wallet. 

"Mate, it's a quarter past five." Sam points out the time on the clock and Luke's heart distinctly skips a beat in his chest, his ears ring with nervousness as he slips the phone out of his pocket only to find it's not there. He rushes towards his office, pushing through the cluster of workers around him as the door swings open and he rummages through everything on his desk, finding the phone hidden under some paperwork. 

The second he checks his notifications, his stomach ties and twists into uncomfortable knots. There's 12 missed calls, triple that number and that's how many texts he received. He's pissed off and more than angry at Luke's lack of remembrance. 

The last text is what worries Luke the most. 

‘fine i'll just walk home asshole’

"Fuck." He whispers out loud, kicking the side of his desk and cursing repeatedly at himself. 

"Boss," Jack is swinging open the door and mimicks his look of worry, only he mixes his worry with distraught. "Hood found Michael on the sidewalk, he got jumped." 

There's nothing else processing in Luke's brain other than get to Michael. His body goes for the door faster than he can even think to say a response. His heart pounds in his chest and he's up the stairs onto the main floor at the same moment the front door pushes open and Michael is being held bridal style by Calum. A newbie trails behind with far more confusion in his face than one may imagine. 

Luke doesn't want to look at the damage done to his poor baby, he's been jumped so many times it's hard to count and he knows it's nothing pretty. Especially downtown. 

"He's unconscious, he passed out when he was talking to me." The maori is rushing through his words. 

Christian has to push everything off of the nearest table to let Calum lay the boy down, all the guys huddle around the table to see the commotion and what the source of it was. 

"Grab ice and run a towel under the tap." Calum's hand shoos the newbie off at the same time he adds on, "Bandages, too." In a loud rasp that tells the blonde he was yelling prior to this. 

"Holy shit." Dillon speaks for the group, Luke's eyes are unable to look away from Michael's body, there's so much to take in but it's all so bad. It's all his fault. He's shoving Dillon beside him to wordlessly warn him to shut up. 

"He said he didn't see their faces, just heard their voices." The raven haired maori is slipping off his leather jacket as he says this, rolling it up for a make shift pillow to keep Michael's feet elevated. 

Michael's lip is busted open at the bottom corner, dried blood has dripped down to his chin. There's a cut in between his eyebrows and the bruise from a punch to the eye has bloomed black and blue, not a black eye though. He's in his dance clothes, there's a black leotard and yoga pants and a sheer white split skirt is tied neatly around his hips. Blood stains it in little smears and drops. His knuckles are split open and are starting to swell and bruise by the second. His arms are covered in green, purple, and blue marks. The assholes who did this are at the top of Luke's hit list. 

"Where's his duffle bag?" Luke knows for a fact Michael keeps a spare set of clothes and he wants them at the ready for when he wakes up. 

"In my car." Calum is in full focus mode, the damp towel given to him is wiping blood from his lip, nose, and hands, then rests across the dancer's pale forehead to help him come back to consciousness. He carefully bandages his knuckles and rests icepacks on them. 

"His phone's shattered, but I told Ashton to get the fuck down here for company after he wakes up." The brunette digs the smashed iPhone out of his back pocket, the screen is in bits of glass and it's screen is glitched. The case on it was a lilac purple marble and it's split in half and in a pile beside the broken phone. 

"I'm sure he's bruised under his clothes-" 

"Don't." Luke deadpans, "I can take care of those." 

His threatening stare gets the maori to step back and lift his hands up in surrender, "Alright, man." 

He doesn't have any time to argue when the door is flung open and Ashton is rushing in with a loud, "What happened?" Those big hazel eyes are welling with tears, "Who hurt Michael?" 

"That's what we're trying to figure out." Luke's eyes don't leave Michael's unconscious figure, the newbies have begun to crowd around the table out of curiosity but it's no match to the way Ashton pushes through them and gets embraced by his comforting boyfriend. Instantly, he gasps at the gruesome damage done and he buries his head into the maori's chest to look away. 

There's a moment where Michael's eyes flutter once or twice, his fingers twitch under the ice packs that stir the ice around inside of them. He makes a soft whimper and the newbies are now full on herding around the taller guys to get a peek at the boss' boy on the table. 

After a couple seconds, Michael's soft green eyes slowly become open and his head turns to both sides until he catches sight of a very blurry Luke. 

"Hey, baby." His voice echoes and bounces around in his head, the slow realization of what happened flashes back through his mind in a whir and he's gasping and jolting up to sit. 

"No, no no." The blonde eases him down onto his back again, "Gotta lie down for a bit, you passed out." He finally doesn't look so blurry and he gets a better perspective of his surroundings. The warehouse, the table, all the people. He widens his eyes at the crowd drawn to him. 

His hand goes to move for Luke's face to make sure he's real but the icepack falls off and surprises him, his head hurts from the loud noise and he gets the strength to bring his hand shakily up to Luke's jaw and blinks slowly, "Baby." He mumbles softly. 

"Yeah, I'm here." The blonde laughs at him a little and puts his hand on his thigh, "Do you know who hurt you?" 

His questions gets him ten seconds of a very dazed out Michael humming in thought, and then, in a whisper, "Three guys. All American. One had a bat." He looks so scared when he explains it, almost reliving the moment, "One had a gun. They wanted my money and I gave it to them but they still beat me up." He turns his head the other way and sees the frail looking Ashton to his left. 

Calum's rocking the boy back and forth as he thinks for awhile, analyzing the descriptions, "Could be Jackson's guys." 

"Could be Nathan's." Christian adds on his suspects. 

"They said that name," Michael mumbles, "Nathan." 

"S'gotta be them, they've wanted payback ever since Jack slept with Nate's girl." Dillon's piping into the conversation with some form of a smirk on his lips, "How else to get revenge than by getting Luke's boyfriend to even things out." 

"I'll head out on Saturday and settle things." Luke has those big blue eyes scanning over Michael's petite body all bruised and hurt, "You think you're all good to dance, baby?" 

"He shouldn't, not for a day or two. He needs to rest." Ashton shakes his head defiantly, "Can't risk him walking into class looking this bad." 

"I look bad?" Michael's bottom lip wobbles and his eyes are welling with tears of fear, his question is answered with a chorus of sympathetic no's to calm him down. 

Luke brushes some of the pink fridge out of the boy's eyes, "No, we just can't let Madame get suspicious, you got some bruises on your pretty face." 

"She'll kill me, I already called off once. She'll kick me off if I do it again." His fear only grows as a tear slips down and his hand tightens on Luke's shirt, clutching the fabric with a shaky hand, "I can't get kicked off of the primas, Luke." 

"You won't." He interferes gently, "I'll make sure of it." It's dishearteningly sad how scared Michael is of his dance instructor. But ballet is strict, it's full of discipline and consequences. At the same time, it's unhealthy to worry this much over calling off. 

"Gonna whoop some ballerina ass." Calum seconds Luke's decision while a couple other guys join in with nods and a few crack their knuckles. 

Ashton instantly disagrees, "No, no no. Babe," He cups Calum's cheek, "Baby," His eyes meet his, "You can't beat them up, no blood, no bruises, nothing illegal." 

"Yeah, but just hear me out-" 

"Mm, no, Cal, that's not- you can't just persuade me to let you do that because Mikey and I could lose our jobs." He gestures to his fellow dancer and tries to get the obvious planted in their heads. He adores Calum dearly but he's not the brightest. 

"What if," Christian smirks, "We get a bat and break their car windows?" 

"No bats. No breaking windows. You guys aren't doing anything, Luke and I, the only sane people here, will reason with Madame the right way." Ashton's still struggling to get them to understand the concept of responsibility. 

Michael's lazy smile flashes weakly at his best friend, "Thank you." He whispers softly. Just above a whisper. 

"Wanna go home or stay here?" The blonde still feels guilty, he still has a packed schedule but he should probably clear it to take care of his baby. 

"I'll stay here." The pink head of hair turns away from Ashton to smile up at Luke, green eyes fluttering a few times to see a clearer view of the blonde, "Need my boyfriend to protect me." 

Ashton mouths a silent aww and leans into Calum, getting a kiss on his forehead at the same time the blonde has to shuffle a little before he carefully maneuvers Michael into his arms bridal style, taking all of his icepacks off. 

"Run your orders and keep working." His feet are heavy and the combat boots scrape the concrete floor of the warehouse, but he's carrying Michael down into his office without breaking a sweat. His ballet clothes are messy and he's still bleeding a little on his lip. 

He let's Michael take his big leather chair, the wheels on the bottom letting him spin, and he's not complaining when Luke gives him his jacket for some warmth, it's a chilly day outside and it's always drafty in the warehouse. 

Ashton's swinging the office door open and carries in Michael's duffle bag full of his ballet necessities. Slipping his way between the obstacles of chairs and such to get to Michael, he unzips the bag and pulls out his change of clothes, "Calum said he'll do all of your errands, since you're gonna take care of Mikey." 

The ballerina points at the door while he speaks, "Lock the door, don't want anyone to see me change." 

His instructions are taken care of in seconds and Michael is untying his split skirt and tossing it into his bag. Being extra careful when he takes off his leggings and leotard, the bruises along his ribs and the bottom of his spine, his hip bones are scratched from scraping the concrete along with his knees. 

With a sympathetic look in his eyes, Ashton hands him the spare leggings and a pale purple oversized sweater that keeps him comfy. 

Luke's heart skips a beat at the sight of Michael being so hurt yet so calm. It's unlike how anyone else would've reacted. The guys in his gang would still be groaning about how in pain they are but of course, his petite little boyfriend is tough as nails with those big green eyes. 

He sits back in the comfy chair and drapes Luke's jacket over his lap for some form of a blanket. 

"I'm on dinner duty for today so what would you like? Your pick." Ashton's smoothing a hand down his friend's arm to comfort him, a smile on his face to give him some assurance. It's unbelievable, how fast this all happened. He should've just been more cautious, he should've offered him a ride home. 

"Can you get me one of those pad thai meals I like?" His murmuring is quiet and makes the dancer in front of him smile and nod. 

"Good choice." Ashton smiles, feet shuffling back up to stand when the heavy door to the office opens to show Calum's broad frame. Despite his terrifying stature he only gives a sympathetic smile to the group. 

"Should I send some newbies out to run some things for you? Or would you rather me do it?" 

Luke's thumbing through a few papers on his desk before handing one to the maori, "Tell that kid Jonah to do it, he's got it under control." 

Michael falls asleep in Luke's office, he's serene and quiet and just peaceful in general with his face smushed against the chair and his body cocooned in a mess of his sweater and the punk's leather jacket. It's just past eight thirty and Luke's finishing up some last minute things upstairs when he stumbles back into his work space to see such a calming view. 

His eyes want to study Michael forever, his hands want to just pick him up and hold him forever, too. That way he's safe and not getting jumped by some dumbass lowlifes. 

"Hey, sweetheart, time to get up." He brushes some strands of fringe from the boy's face, those green eyes opening to focus on the blue ones across from him. 

"How are you feelin'?" 

"Better." Michael smiles softly. "Thank you." 

Luke grins back but let's it fall a moment later. He really shouldn't deserve that. He caused this. He lost track of time and now Michael can't dance for a good week until his bruises somewhat efface. 

"Um, we're gonna sleep back at my place tonight, it's less driving, need you home safe and fast." 

"Okay," Michael stands up with the help of Luke, wobbly legs as he leans into his chest for support, "I love you." 

Luke's heart nearly stops beating, it goes through the floor and slingshots back faster than he'd hope as the words process in his head over and over. Maybe he's too tired to realize he just said it. He couldn't have meant it. Why would he mean it? Luke's not. . . good enough for him. He's not a good boyfriend he got him jumped and nearly killed. Why does Michael love him? 

He shakes his head, "Let's. . . Let's go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo another chapter!! lemme know your thoughts and comments and give some kudos!! :)


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